


We'll Cross It When We Get There

by Dreadbeasts



Series: Bridges [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Callum's Dad - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, aaravos is a bad man, dealing with the aftermath of battle, expanding a lot on canon, half-elf callum, one-sided/toxic viravos, relationship development is slower than in canon, slightly spicier than show canon relationships, the violence is a little bloodier too, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21784270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreadbeasts/pseuds/Dreadbeasts
Summary: The awaited sequel to The Bridge Between!After an eventful three days at a Xadian mage school, Callum's learned a few new things. One, his birth father's an elf. Two, don't touch magic-absorbing enchanted iron unless you want everyone else to know you aren't entirely human. Three, he's developing a huge crush on Rayla.But war is coming to Xadia, led by Viren and his mysterious "little bug pal." And Aaravos is VERY interested in the first living half-elf in a thousand years...(Alternate title: Aunt Dreadbeasts kidnaps canon at gunpoint and rewrites it to include the non-canon elements of the story she wrote pre-Season 3, and then keeps going.)
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Bridges [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567963
Comments: 147
Kudos: 496
Collections: Half-Elf Callum Club





	1. Meanwhile in Lux Aurea

**Author's Note:**

> You asked, you got it! Here's the sequel to The Bridge Between :V
> 
> A few notes, because I wrote TBB before Season 3 aired - some names and events will be slightly tweaked from TBB in this story. Namely, Belenus the Sunfire Elf has been quietly replaced with Ethari the Moonshadow Elf. I'm skipping over Rayla's ghosting (since we had a whole 2 days in her hometown in the original story and I can't just have them ghost her after the fact), and I have plans for how to deal with Sol Regem. 
> 
> This fic is going to be MOSTLY canon compliant otherwise, with things tweaked here and there to either match the things I've set up or fix things/expand on things from canon. 
> 
> Enjoy, everyone! Hope it lives up to the hype :)

On a golden, sunlight-swept plain just east of the Human/Xadian border, the citadel of Lux Aurea shone with pride. Stronghold of the Sunfire elves and seat of her royal eminence, Queen Khessa, it was the last elven stronghold before the molten river that blocked passage into the human kingdoms.

The guards stationed at the gates of the city squinted skyward as a faint shadow passed them overhead and wheeled around, flying westward some ways before returning and drawing in closer. The more senior guard rolled his eyes and tapped his partner, who pretended to gag in amusement. Skywing elves were seen all across the continent, but they weren’t generally well-liked in Lux Aurea. Too flighty and self-interested, the Sunfire elves tended to view the Skywings as fickle cowards.    
  
His people probably deserved that, Zeru mused to himself as he observed the guards’ scorn. Then again, the Sunfires could lighten up a little. (He chuckled at his unintentional pun). Stuffy, prim and aggressive, the people of Lux Aurea were a bit intense for Zeru’s liking. Still, he has business here - important business, and he wasn’t about to let the disrespect deter him.

Initially he had meant to avoid Lux Aurea altogether. Not just because of the mutual dislike, but also because an old… well, he didn’t exactly think of her as a  _ friend _ , more of an acquaintance? Commanding officer? Either way, Janai really,  _ really _ didn’t like Zeru, and he wasn’t eager to cross paths with the Golden Knight of Lux Aurea, especially not on her home turf. 

Had everything gone as planned, Zeru would have proceeded right across the border into Katolis without anyone’s notice but the birds. Things, unfortunately, had not gone as planned.

There was a massive human army on the horizon, and they had somehow parted the lava like an Ocean mage parts the waves. The banners of four kingdoms flapped in the wind, including the broken towers of Katolis, and from what he knew about the royal family, he doubted that King Ezran was at the head of this army. In fact, it was unlikely that King Ezran was even king.    
  
If he were a betting elf (and sometimes, he was), Zeru would have guessed that their first target was Lux Aurea, and their next one was the Storm Spire. Instinct and upbringing, of course, told him to turn tail, find his loved ones, and flee for a safer corner of Xadia. But Zeru had experienced a rather strange couple of days, and so, he now found himself approaching the gates of Lux Aurea.

He regarded the guards coolly, one eyebrow raised with the kind of superior confidence that tended to open doors. And why not? After all, he  _ was _ a high-ranking mage at one of the largest magic academies in Xadia, and sometimes served as Sol Regem’s emissary, to boot. His accomplishments went before him. At least, he hoped.

The guards, brown-skinned and black-haired both, glared at him with amber eyes, the gold swirling across their faces identifying them as lower-ranked guards. “Halt,” said the one on the left, voice lilting with the usual Sunfire accent. “State your business in Lux Aurea.”

The traveler schooled his expression into a mask of haughty contempt. “I am Zeru, Magister of Alendis and  _ personal _ emissary to Sol Regem, thank you.” He displayed the badge pinned to his tunic, indeed bearing the magical insignia of the former dragon king. “If you take issue with my presence, I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear your complaints.”

The guards’ eyes widened considerably, and they exchanged nervous glances. “F-forgive my cohort’s insolence, sir,” said the guard on the right, elbowing the other. “She’s  _ new _ .”

Zeru softened his expression, and nodded. “She is to be commended for doing her duty enthusiastically. Perhaps with a bit less animosity, next time?”

“Yes, Magister Zeru!” said the first guard, standing to anxious attention. “Welcome to Lux Aurea!”

The heavy golden doors shuddered open, and he was shown to a waiting area. “Wait here, please. Lady Janai will be here shortly.”

Zeru sighed. Of  _ course _ he’d have to deal with Janai directly. Janai had plenty of reasons to dislike him, but considering that she knew quite well why he was no longer employed as a spy under her command, he knew she didn’t trust him at all. 

After all, he had taken a...  _ romantic  _ dalliance with the former General of the Standing Battalion. 

A dalliance which had borne him a son, no less, which was his original purpose for sneaking into Katolis. He had recently met his son, Callum –  _ Prince _ Callum! – and at the boy’s request he was now carrying a letter to the boy’s Aunt, the  _ current _ General of the Standing Battalion. Who also hated him. His itinerary was now full of angry, aggressive women who could easily beat the stuffing out of him that just so happened to hate him. Lovely.

But Janai did not need to know any of these facts. In truth, the further he could keep her away from learning any of this, the better. As it stood, even his reasons for being this far north, rather than to the south near Sol Regem’s domain, would be questioned. He hoped his usual excuse of “Sol Regem wants a report” would suffice. 

He glanced around, observing that it was taking the Golden Knight rather longer than usual to show up. Hmm.

Still, he waited with calm, careful patience – measured and restrained, an act he’d perfected over the years, betrayed only by the drumming of his big toe inside his boot. He had learned patience and how to cope with the blossom of worry within his chest over the years, and had mastered controlling it, but that didn’t mean anxiety never reared its head. He breathed in, and out, allowing the hot sunlit air flow into his lungs. 

There was  _ so _ much Sun energy here, underneath the watchful eye of the Sunforge. It was stifling to a Sky mage. No wonder the Moonshadows always complained about coming here, it must be torture for the secretive, pale-haired elves that preferred their cool, luminescent forests to this blazing, shadeless savannah.

Finally, the tap of boots against stone approached him. “Zeru.”

Janai was an impressive woman – tall, broad-shouldered, and fast, with an imposing crown and even more intimidating sunforged blade at her hip. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. 

He stood, and shook out his wings slightly, and gave a short bow. “Janai, always a pleasure.”

“Spare me the pleasantries. Why are you here?”

Zeru opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short as a breathless guard ran up to them. “Lady Janai, there's a human at the gates. The King of Katolis wishes an audience with Her Radiance.”

“The  _ King _ ?” said Zeru, with deep skepticism. So those armies were definitely not being led by Ezran. Something was seriously wrong. He turned to Janai, to share what he knew but she was already giving orders to the guards to see the King to one of the well-fortified suites while she went to speak to her sister.   
  
Before she headed up the stairs, though, Janai spun on her heel. “Take Magister Zeru to the dungeons to visit with his old friend. I’ll fetch him after I’ve spoken to the Queen.”

With rough courtesy, he was escorted to a ring of flames somewhere below the city. He had expected this, he supposed - at least they weren’t cuffing him. And Janai didn’t seem to think it would take long. However, when the flames parted and he was shoved roughly inside, he was surprised to find out what Janai had meant by “old friend.”

A scholarly Sunfire elf was standing to the side, looking a bit perplexed. But it was the human woman in Batallion Blue that shocked him.

Her hair was shorter and she wasn’t wearing armor, but Zeru would have recognized General Amaya anywhere. 

What in Xadia was she doing here?

“O-oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. I am Kazi. And this is the human general, Amaya?” They seemed unsure of the pronunciation, but it wasn’t as though Zeru needed the introduction. Still…

“A pleasure, Kazi. My name is Zeru. And a pleasure to meet you as well, General Amaya.” With interest, he noted that the human was not shackled, and seemed to have free reign of the cell. Well, it wasn’t like she was going anywhere, surrounded completely by fire. He at least had the luxury of flying out if needed, although he was keenly aware that the heat could singe his feathers. Protectively, he tucked his wings in closer to his body.

Amaya stood and approached him, squinting at him in curiosity. She gripped his chin in one (alarmingly strong) hand, and tilted his face side to side, before releasing him and stepping away, signing a question.

“Um, she asked if she has met you before.”

“Does she see many Skywing elves on her side of the border?” he asked curtly, rubbing his jaw. Skies above, she had a grip. He knew full well where she’d seen him before, of course, but he wasn’t about to tip his hand just yet. There would be an appropriate time to give her the letter from Callum, but not in the middle of Lux Aurea when they were both technically imprisoned and a tense diplomatic meeting was going on upstairs.

Amaya was signing something further to Kazi, who was signing back, a silent conversation that Zeru wasn’t privy to. Kazi looked concerned, and Amaya seemed agitated. He cleared his throat, reminding the interpreter that he was present.

“Ah, we were just… well, General Amaya seems to believe she’s seen your face, or someone who looks like you, but they would have been a human?” They tapped their chin, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Strange that there would be a human who looks so much like you.”

Slowly, Amaya’s back straightened as she put two and two together. She whipped around to stare at Zeru, searching his face - or likely imagining it with pink skin and no markings. The stare hardened into a glare, and she marched over to him and delivered a swift kick to his shins and a sharp punch to his gut. 

Zeru went down like a ramshackle shanty in a hurricane, hissing in pain as he laid on the floor holding his leg and stomach. It wasn’t broken, but he certainly was going to have some quite vivid bruises.

“That was for breaking her sister’s heart?” said Kazi, interpreting the forceful, angry words Amaya signed before she sat down resolutely on the opposite side of the chamber, staring holes into Zeru. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead several times over. “I don’t understand,” said Kazi, a little lost.

“No, I deserved that. We, ah, have a history.” Zeru wheezed. 

“Enjoying your reunion?” came Janai’s voice, lilting in amusement. She strode through the flames, and then stood before the entrance, arms folded as she regarded the tableau before her. Zeru on the floor holding his middle like he’d just been punched, and the human prisoner on the other side of the cell, looking as though she’d prefer to kill the mage. Interesting, the human was not happy to see him. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all. 

“Just getting reacquainted, seeing as General Amaya hasn’t seen me undisguised before,” said Zeru, standing slowly and putting all his weight on one leg. There was a rather large scuff on his boot just below the knee of the leg he was favoring, and Janai smirked. So the human had kicked him, too. Having been a recipient of one such kick, Janai knew how much that could hurt, and  _ she _ was a hardened Sunfire warrior, not a flighty Skywing errand boy who avoided conflict like it was a disease. 

“Well, fortunately you won’t have to be here much longer. The Queen is finishing up with the King of Katolis, and then he will be purified. Afterwards, we’ll see to whatever business it was you had with us.”

“Yes, about that…” said Zeru, straightening his robes and flicking his wings in agitation. Amaya and Janai in the same room was making him very nervous. “The King brought his army and the armies of three other human kingdoms with him. They’re camped just over the horizon, out of sight from the watchtowers.”

Janai narrowed her eyes. “What?”

Amaya stood and approached. “What do you mean, the King of Katolis is here? That’s impossible.”

The Golden Knight rolled her eyes. “King or not, he’s about to be purified. I’ve never seen a human so corrupted by dark magic.” She shrugs. “There will probably be nothing left of King Viren once the light is done with him. And good riddance to that arrogant man.”

Amaya’s eyes widened in fear. “We have to stop him!” she signed frantically. “That’s not the king, that’s the most dangerous man in Katolis! We’re all in grave danger!”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘Viren’?” interjected Zeru. When Amaya shot him a confused frown, questioning how he knew of the dark mage, he sighed. “We have a lot of catching up to do, Amaya. But it’ll have to wait.”

The four of them rushed out of the holding cell towards the Sunforge and the fall of Lux Aurea.


	2. The Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with Rayla and Callum as they cross the Midnight Desert. But as Rayla grapples with devastating news from home, Callum wrestles with the questions and anxiety his sudden transformation two days before have brought him.

The heat of the desert was doing nothing for Rayla’s mood. 

She was already feeling glum after their misadventures in Alendis, and her parents still being missing cowards, but her latest stop in the small Earthblood village had soured her mood significantly. The letter from Ethari, sent via Shadowhawk, had landed just as she had finished purchasing a water skin for her and Callum. 

Despite her adoptive father’s best efforts to explain Rayla’s abandoning her mission for a greater purpose (which he couldn’t divulge for reasons of security), the Council had decided to ghost her. Apparently, word had gotten around that she was alive and not imprisoned, and therefore a coward who abandoned her team, at least in the eyes of the Council. She wouldn’t ever be able to go home again. Here she was, trying to save Xadia - no, save the world! - and her stupid village wouldn’t even give her the time of day.

Callum wasn’t helping matters, either. His way of coping with sadness was apparently talking about it endlessly, and he was driving her mad with his insistence on knowing what was eating her. Then some Skywing elf had shown up and insisted on taking them straight to the Dragon Queen, but there was something in the way Nyx spoke and acted that just rubbed Rayla the wrong way.

Of course, Callum’s wide-eyed observation of the Skywing elf wasn’t making matters better. She frowned at the pit in her heart - surely she wasn’t  _ jealous _ of Nyx and how Callum was staring at her, was she?

Callum leaned across the space between them to whisper to her. “So is it normal for Skywing elves to keep their wings out all the time, or is it a showing-off thing? The only others I saw with their wings out all the time were Zeru and that Tenyo jerk.”

The question caught Rayla off guard, but it suddenly made sense. Of course he was staring at Nyx - she was a Skywing elf, and Callum was still acclimating to...well, being an elf. Well, half of an elf. She turned to look at him. 

Two weeks ago, she’d set out from the castle of Katolis with two human princes and a dragon egg. The younger of the two, Ezran, had returned to Katolis to rule as king upon learning of the death of his father. The other prince, Callum, had traveled with her into Xadia. Along the way, they’d bumped into Callum’s biological father, who turned out to be a Skywing mage. And thanks to some dispelling magic, the illusion cast _in utero_ that disguised Callum as fully human had come undone.

He hadn’t changed too much, and she was grateful for that at least. Still the same messy brown hair, the too-earnest green eyes and five fingers (cleverly concealed in a pair of elven gloves). But now there were also a pair of grey horns on the sides of his head, and his ears tapered to a point at the tip and the lobe - less pronounced than the other Skywing elves, but still not round enough to be passably human. Rayla had observed him touching the horns hesitantly at intervals, and tracing his finger along the edges of his ears, trying to reconcile the changes in his appearance with his sense of self. 

And now, with the question about Nyx’s wings, she realized that Callum was probably pestering her about her feelings so much because he was probably trying to avoid his own feelings. Too bad for him, though. His family and home would still love and accept him, probably.

Rayla’s village, save Ethari, had banished her.

“You could just ask Nyx,” she said sourly, and winced internally at the kicked-puppy look Callum gave her. 

“Ask me what?” called the elf in question, from her perch atop the Ambler’s head. 

“Um,” Callum began, trying to word the question politely. “Is there a reason only some Skywings keep their wings out all the time?”

Nyx gave him a strange look, before remembering something. “Ah, right. You’re only half-Sky, aren’t you? Heard a rumor that there was a Skyshadow kid who’d grown up in the human lands. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” It was the creative backstory that Ethari had dreamt up for him when the tinker had created his first illusory disguise (mostly so that no one had to listen to Callum’s atrocious attempt at an Elven accent). It wasn’t… completely wrong, insofar as Callum WAS half-Skywing and had grown up in Katolis. 

“We don’t all have wings,” Nyx explained. “Some of us are lucky and are born with them, some of us start out being able to turn them on and off, and some just… don’t have them at all. Oh! And some really advanced mages can turn their arms into wings.” She turned around with a sly smile and looked down towards Callum. “So lets see ‘em.”

“See what?” he asked back, in confusion.

Nyx rolled her eyes. “The wings! C’mon, you said ‘keep their wings out’, which means you’ve got the on-and-off kind, yeah? And I’m guessing you didn’t know you had them until recently, too.”

“Oh.” Nyx was sharp, and very perceptive. That worried Rayla. 

Callum stood, and concentrated a little, before a pair of light grey wings unfurled from his back, through the vents in his jacket. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, and dismissed them again. 

Nyx hummed to herself, and turned around once more, guiding the Ambler forward. “Might want to think about keeping them out more often than in,” she said airily. “My mum used to say that with wings it was use ‘em or lose ‘em. That we all used to have wings, but some of us kept tucking them away, and eventually couldn’t bring them back out at all.”

At this, Callum frowned. He could lose the wings if he didn’t use them often enough?

The commotion had woken Zym, who stretched and began pawing at Callum’s leg. The baby dragon looked up at the boy with wide blue eyes and stretched his wings out with a cheep.

“You want to go for a fly?” Zym grunted happily in affirmation, and jumped up to the ledge of the platform, looking back at Callum. Callum looked over to Rayla, with an apologetic smile. “We’re just going to take a quick loop and come back.

“Whatever,” sighed Rayla, looking off into the distance. 

“Don’t take too long!” called Nyx as Callum re-summoned his wings and gave them a tentative flap. “We’re about to get to the Oasis.” With a salute, Callum stepped off the edge of the Ambler’s saddle and rose to the skies, following Zym carefully. 

Nyx observed this from her perch. “Bit clumsy, isn’t he?” she called down to Rayla, who grunted with annoyance. “Strange that he’s so inexperienced with his wings… even if he isn’t a full Skywing he still should’ve learned about them as a kid.” At Rayla’s frosty silence, Nyx persisted. “So… you two been friends for long?”

“Long enough,” was Rayla’s curt answer.

“And are you always this friendly?”

“Yup.”

Nyx let out a small  _ tsk _ and turned away. No use pumping the Moonshadow for information, then. Rayla was a closed book and sending off waves of hostility. 

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and after several excruciating minutes in silence, Callum and Zym returned. The dragon landed with ease, chasing his tail in happy circles and yipping with excitement. Callum, however, was wheezing and sweaty. 

“You were up there for a lot longer,” observed Rayla, handing him a water skin. He eagerly took it and gulped down several mouthfuls.

“‘S hot out here,” he said, finally catching his breath. “And Zym wanted to go fast this time. Had to push myself.” He stretched, and dismissed the wings, before flopping down next to Rayla. “I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight.”

“Good news for you, then,” said Nyx. “We’re at the Oasis.”

She explained the Oasis and the barrier, and how it would allow in some but keep the soulfangs out. She guided the ambler to a clear patch, and the enormous beast lowered them all to the ground before gingerly laying itself down for the night as the last rays of sunlight vanished. Then, after some embarrassing confusing regarding whether or not Rayla and Callum intended to share a bedroll, they too hunkered down to sleep.

Except Callum could not. He’d experienced this difficulty the night before, too, but no matter what position he lay in, he could not figure out how to get comfortable with the two bony protrusions sticking out of his head. Sleeping on his side was out, because that’s where the horns were, and it felt really wobbly just resting all his weight the base. Plus, it mashed the tip of his ear against the horn, and the niggling constant reminder of the pointy ears and horns being  _ actually attached _ to him made his anxiety spike in a way he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. Laying on his back wasn’t much better, because the ends of the horns, which protruded just past the back of his head, tended to hook and snag whatever was behind him. 

With an irritated huff, Callum resolved himself to rolling over and laying face down, if he could handle that. He glanced over at Nyx, who had tucked her wings around herself and was dozing happily on her side. Whatever,  _ she _ had her horns her entire life, she knew how to deal with the logistics of  _ bones _ that stuck out of her  _ skull _ . 

He turned to the other side, and noticed that Rayla was missing.

With a start, he sat up, his own discomfort dismissed as he frantically looked about for Rayla. She was further away, near the edge of the water at the center of the oasis, a small form curled up on a log. He hurried to her side, concern evident in every line of his body.

“Rayla, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice quiet as he reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“Go  _ away _ , Callum!” she cried, a little forcefully, as she pushed his hand away and curled further into a ball. Her hood was up, and her knees were practically touching her ears. But there was also a small hitch in her voice that had Callum’s full attention. He recognized that thickness - Rayla had been  _ crying _ .

“No,” he said, firmly, as he sat down beside her. “I’m not letting you push me away when you’re in pain.”

“I’m a  _ mess _ ,” she protested, pulling her hood further down. “I don’t want you to see me like this!”

“Rayla, I don’t care if you’re crying--” She abruptly cut him off and stomped over to the water’s edge. 

“I lost everything. My parents are gone and I’ll never see them again, Runaan’s somewhere in between life and death, and now my whole home has decided to  _ banish  _ me! I can’t go home!” She kicked a rock into the water, and crouched down, letting a single tear escape her eye. “And I deserve it. I’m too much of a coward, and I let everyone on my team die. I  _ failed _ them! They’re right to reject me. I-I’m no good, and I never will be.”

“Shut up.”

Callum’s harsh words startled her out of her spiral into sadness. Rayla looked up at him, glaring down at her with some kind of inscrutable anger on his face, his ears tilted low. “Huh?” said Rayla in surprise, suddenly too confused at his anger to be upset. 

“You’re talking crazy talk,” he said, holding out a hand to her to help her up. “All that stuff about you being a coward and no good, that’s a load of banther crap.” He glanced down, momentarily unsure, but Callum had always been a boy who thought with his heart. He wasn’t sure about his feelings regarding his own pain and troubles, but he was crystal clear on how he felt about Rayla and HER self-esteem issues.

“You’re too good to feel this bad about yourself. I know that, and you should know that. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, and kind, and yeah, really daring. You stood up for what’s right against your uncle, and you keep standing up for what’s right, even when it blows up in your face. That kind of courage takes strength - real strength.”

He turned to her, and lowered her hood. “Rayla, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Yeah, things have been… really weird, these last couple of days. But the fact that you’re here with me makes me feel like I can get through anything, and you should know that you’re  _ my _ best friend too. I’m so glad I met you.”

Rayla wiped her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she choked out one final, happy sob. This earnest, big-feelings boy was going to be the death of her, and now he was saying so many nice things about her she couldn’t ignore the staccato thump of her heart in his chest. The thought of taking his hand in hers, pressing her lips to his, sent electric shivers down her spine, and it was momentarily all she could think about. But… it wasn’t a confession, she realized. Close to one, maybe, but she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by letting her emotions get the better of her. She blushed a soft lavender, and looked away from his penetrating gaze, those green eyes she could get lost in. 

She gave a nervous chuckle, and looked back at him. “Thanks, Callum.” And then, a faint smile. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

It was Callum’s turn to blush. “Well, I don’t know…” he said, turning away with a sheepish grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze trailed to their small camp, and immediately he noticed something amiss. 

“Uh… where’s Zym?”

Rayla instantly looked up. Zym and Nyx were gone, as was the Ambler.

The two of them rushed to the edge of the wall, frantically looking around to see which way they went. The large footprints of the colossal beast lead to the east. Without hesitating, Callum brought his wings out. “C’mon. I can fly us there.”

Hesitatingly, Rayla allowed Callum to wrap his arms around her waist, and they took off. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t get very far. The two of them plummeted just a few meters outside of the wonder wall, Callum’s wings fading away rapidly as the magic sustaining them shorted out. They landed awkwardly in the black sand with a thud, and immediately scrambled to their feet. The sands shifted unnaturally, alluding to what lay beneath them. 

Rayla flipped out her blades with practiced grace. “Run.”

The two wasted no time sprinting back towards the edge of the oasis, as all around them soulfang serpents burst out of the sand, hissing and green eyes aglow. Rayla’s blades were a flurry of steel, stained with the green ichor of the snakes as she fended them off, away from herself and from Callum. 

Eventually, they scrambled inside, panting, the ashes of a vaporized serpent mere millimeters from Rayla’s foot. 

“That was close,” panted Callum.

“Too close,” replied Rayla, looking back at him. He shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed. “What happened with your wings?”

“I… don’t know.” He said, frowning. “They just kind of… dissipated, like the magic ran out.” Briefly, dimly, he hoped that the magic would run out on the other changes to his appearance. His dive through the barrier had nicked the end of his horn, and it had given him a rather unpleasant twinge in his skull. The horn was fine, apparently they were a bit tougher than he expected. But Callum realized that he wanted to go back to just being a plain old human without horns or pointy ears. And being reminded of the horns in such a way was causing that deep surge of discomfort and anxiety to come back.

Rayla, for her part, was frowning at the desert. “The Ambler is slow, so if we wait until sunrise we might still be able to make it if we can find a mount.” She paced a little, thinking. “Should’ve asked Ethari if we could borrow Moonbeam and Argentus.”

“Moonbeam?”

“Oh, right. They’re Ethari and Runaan’s mounts. They’d have been fast enough to catch up to Nyx and her stupid Ambler.”

“Excuse me, did you say Nyx?” came a woman’s voice from nearby. The two teens turned to see a Skywing woman with dark grey wings walking towards them from a nearby campsite. Behind her, a Skywing man (brown wings) worked to calm a large gryphon.

“Friend of yours?” accused Rayla.

The woman snorted. “Hardly. Stole a bag of star sapphires we were bringing down from Starfall Point.”

Callum stood, and eyed the couple. “She stole something important from us, too. If we get the sapphires back, can we borrow your gryphon?”

She looked over her shoulder at the creature, and back to the kids, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “And why should I entrust her to a couple of kids when, theoretically, I could fly her out there myself?”

“Because Rayla’s a trained assassin,” said Callum, emphatically. “And she’s on a mission to protect what Nyx took.”

The skywing woman nodded. “Them Moonshadows take their missions pretty seriously. What about you?”

“Callum’s a mage,” said Rayla, standing beside him and glaring at the woman. “And he’s my backup.”

The skywing elf gave the two of them a knowing look, then shrugged. “Alright. Not like I wanted to stay up all night chasing that snake down anyway. Hey, Cirro!” She flapped the short distance over to the male elf, and although Callum and Rayla couldn’t hear the conversation, from the way the couple was gesturing, she was explaining to him what they’d just discussed. After some time, Cirro guided the Gryphon over to the two of them and handed Callum the reins. 

“It’s three clicks to get airborne, and a whistle to descend.” He explained. “Her name’s Phaedra, and when you’re done just pop the sapphires in her saddle bag and tell her to go home. Nepha says you can keep one, but there better still be 14 in there or she'll hunt you down. Phaedra will find her way back to us, so don't worry.” The gryphon nibbled on Cirro’s horn, and then gave Callum an investigative sniff. Gingerly, Phaedra then nibbled Callum’s horn.

“Aw, she likes you,” said Cirro with a smile. “Anyway, if you’re going to catch up to Nyx you should probably get going.”

“Thank you,” said Callum, taking Phaedra’s reins and trying to move out of horn-nibbling range. It was sweet, he supposed, but again he was finding himself rather uncomfortable being reminded of his horns. Rayla took the reins from him and climbed onto the gryphon’s back, helping Callum up. 

With a rapid series of clicks, Rayla guided the mount into the sky, and hot on Nyx’s trail. 

And behind her, Callum chewed worriedly on his lip. The wings had been the one thing about all this half-elf business he was okay with and even kind of delighted by, but he couldn’t get Nyx’s warning out of his mind: use ‘em or lose ‘em. He didn’t want them out full-time, because then there’d be nothing he could do to even pretend he was fully human. But he didn’t want to lose them forever, not just as he was getting the hang of flight and experiencing the Sky as it was meant to be experienced.

As dawn’s first tendrils spread across the horizon, Callum wondered if he’d ever feel normal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trash and the skywing elves at the end are my OC and her partner. You're never too old for elfsonas. 
> 
> Also working around canon in this one was haaaard. I didn't want to do exactly what canon did, but I also felt that some of the emotional beats were important to progress where I need Callum and Rayla to end up in this story, so the Rayllum kiss won't happen until later. Like I said, we're on a slower burn (but not too slow). Callum is dealing with emotional things he mostly got over in canon once he got his arcanum. Not so much in this fic.


	3. In the Shadow of the Eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Soren's departure, Viren comforts Claudia and learns something about Claudia's misadventures.

“I… I’m afraid.”

Kasef sneered at the king’s cowardly, faithless son. Of  _ course _ the blond idiot (what was his name? Sam? Sorghum?) was nothing more than a little boy playing at tin soldiers, unprepared for the realities of war. But Kasef, firstborn of Neolandia, was faithful to his father and to his people.  _ He _ was prepared to do whatever it took to free humanity from the crush of elven tyranny. 

“I am ready!” he cried, and the crowd turned their attention towards him. “I am ready to receive the gift!”

The Mage King of Katolis smiled at him, and raised the sun staff, glowing with corrupted solar energies, and began to chant in the eldritch tongue of the dark mages. Black fire surged around Kasef, sinking into his body.

At first, Kasef merely felt warm, then hot, as the fire of the sun suffused into his body. Magma-like veins traced their way down his body, and he watched in horror as his hand rearranged itself into something bestial. He felt no pain, though, and merely observed as he felt himself growing larger, taller, stronger, hotter. His heart burned like an ember, and Kasef felt his doubt and fears burn away, replaced with nothing but burning pride and searing rage. 

Yes.  _ Yes _ . With  _ this _ , he would make all of Xadia pay.

Soren watched Kasef’s transformation, terrified to his core. His father hadn’t always been the warmest guy, but the knowledge that  _ this _ is what Viren had wanted to do to him, that it was supposed to be a good thing, shattered the last remaining shred of loyalty Soren had to his dad. Viren had called him “beloved” - the first time Soren had ever heard those words from his father’s mouth in regards to himself - and the way he’d said it, and the way the words he'd longed to hear his father say made him feel so icky, Soren knew he couldn't ignore his conscience any longer. 

Viren wanted to turn them all into monsters, and didn’t see the assembled armies as anything more than his playthings, and it horrified Soren to the very core of his being. 

He looked out across the camps, to the faces of the combined armies - Del Barian furs and Evenerian scale mingled in with the Katolian plate and Neo...noodle… uh… Kasef’s armies in their leather mail - and he could see, from the posture they held and the shocked expressions: the soldiers were afraid. It seemed, to Soren, that for all the hoo-rah and bravado Viren had drummed up on the long march from Katolis to Lux Aurea, it was all fading rapidly in the awful light of that staff. 

They wanted to be able to face dragonfire, but not like this. Not at the expense of their minds and humanity. 

And Viren didn’t seem to care one bit.

Soren ran. Despite his desperate want for his Dad’s approval, despite the fact that he didn’t know who at the Storm Spire would listen to or help him or anything - Soren ran.

Not even Claudia could stop him, and her desperate cries shattered his heart, but he ran. Towards the right thing, he hoped.

Viren found her in her tent later that night, red-faced and trying to distract herself by reading up on Sun magic, but merely getting frustrated and setting her tent on fire. Aaravos, his worm coiled around Viren’s shoulders now like some kind of serpentine scarf, whispered in his ear. “Speak carefully,” said the elf, gesturing towards Claudia, invisible to all but Viren, “today’s events have upset her greatly, and if you give her any cause to doubt, she will no longer be of use to you.”

“I know how to comfort my own daughter,” Viren scolded. He twitched the flap aside, and entered Claduia’s tent as she was hastily putting out another fire. “Claudia?” he asked, tone gentle. 

“Oh! Dad!” she sniffled and wiped her face hastily, trying to regain composure. “Just… trying to get the hang of this staff!” She gave a shaky laugh, and then pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. “Didn’t hear you come in. What can I do for you?”

Viren stepped inside, and sat down on the edge of the bed, patting it gently to invite Claudia to sit beside him. “Right now, you can tell me what’s upset you so much. Claudia, are you alright?”

For a moment, Claudia tried to keep her composure, but it doesn’t last. Her face crumbled, and she sniffled as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She tried to speak, but the words did not come. His heart went out to her, and Viren opened his arms, a silent invitation that Claudia took immediately. She rushed into her father’s embrace, sobbing into his chest while Viren stroked her hair as he had done when she was much younger. 

When her breathing began to normalize, Viren squeezed her shoulders gently and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Claudia pulled away and wiped her eyes, frowning in anger. “Soren’s a bastard,” she spat. 

“Language,” Viren chided. 

“He is, though! Just because he’s scared of a little dark magic, he runs off and has the balls to be all ‘goodbye, Claudia’ like it’s not a big deal!” She mocked Soren’s voice, pitching her own lower and speaking in the tone everyone uses when making fun of another, but there was no mirth to it. “Like he’s not doing the same thing mom did.”

Viren said nothing, knowing that Claudia would elaborate. If he felt any sorrow, disappointment or anger towards Soren or his ex-wife, he hid it well. Aaravos could feel the quickening of his heartbeat through the wyrm, but Viren’s face was a mask of concerned sympathy.  _ Interesting _ .

“It’s just… ugh! How can he be such a butt about this!?” Claudia cried, her sorrow crystalizing into anger. “Thank you, Claudia, for harpooning that dragon for me after I messed up and made it angry! Thank you, Claudia, for grabbing the horn I broke off and forgot about!  _ Thank you, Claudia _ , for making it so I could walk again even though it obviously hurt you a lot and meant that we both failed our missions!” 

Viren blinked. “You fought a dragon?” he asked, concerned. 

Claudia shifted. “Well, yeah, where did you think I got a dragon horn? The dragon store? Dragons-r-Us?” She laughed, half-heartedly, at her bad joke.

“Forgive me, Claudia, I’ve been a bit… preoccupied these last few days.”

“No, I get it.” Claudia sighed, and drew her knees up to her chin. “Soren and I were traveling through a town close to the border, and there was a red dragon flying overhead and making the townspeople nervous. Soren got the bright idea to kill it, I used a seeking spell to actually down it, and we’d gotten it all chained up before…” she scowled, and glared at a point on the floor, spitting out the words. “Before that horrible  _ moonshadow elf _ showed up to save the poor widdle dwagon that murdered a bunch of people.”

Viren felt suddenly off balance. He’d been so focused on the political intrigue in the castle that he hadn’t realized that his own children had faced more than he anticipated. “Moonshadow elf?” he asked, trying to put the pieces together. 

Behind him, Aaravos leaned in with interest. 

Claudia snorted. “Yeah, the stupid elf that stole the egg from your workroom and somehow convinced Callum and Ezran she’s a good elf and we’re the bad guys. That’s how the egg hatched, by the way - Callum stole the sky primal stone from me and smashed it to hatch the dragon prince.” There was a note of hurt in her voice.

Viren took all this news in stride. Callum siding with an elf didn’t surprise him, he supposed. He hadn’t forgotten about Sarai’s lapse in judgment or Harrow’s hare-brained idea to let the child live, even if no one else in the castle seemed to know or remember what he truly was. 

He ran a hand down his face, smoothing his expression, and he turned to Claudia. “Thank you for telling me that information. That might actually be valuable to know in the upcoming fight against the Dragon Queen, if we have to contend with Moonshadow elves as well as whatever forces the Dragon Queen might have assembled. And if Callum has truly turned traitor, then we should take into account any intelligence he may share with the Xadian forces.”

Claudia frowned and curled tighter into herself. “I can’t believe Callum would betray me like that. I thought we were friends.”

Her reaction sounded a bit extreme to just be about stealing a primal stone and breaking it. “Did something else happen?”

“Yeah, that’s how Soren got hurt. The elf showed up and started fighting people away from the dragon, but she was outnumbered. Then  _ Callum _ showed up, apparently is  _ super good _ at magic, and did the Chainbreaker spell after seeing me do it only once -”

“Callum used dark magic?!” cried Viren, zeroing in on that detail. The one thing he had warned Sarai and Harrow, all those years ago, to never ever let her son touch, and he’d done just that. 

Aaravos moved around to watch Viren’s face, a glitter in his eyes that worried Viren. Something in their conversation had caught the Startouch elf’s attention, and that concerned him.

Claudia rolled her eyes, ignorant of the unspoken tension between her dad and his little bug pal. “Calm down, dad, it’s not like Harrow’s alive to be mad about it. Yeah, he grabbed a slug and turned the chains on the dragon into snakes. Then the dragon got loose and slapped Soren into a rock.” She hunched over. “Broke his back. He couldn’t move.”

Viren reached out to take her shoulder gently, and then lifted the white strand at the front of her hair. So that’s how she’d spent so much of her essence - healing a broken, paralyzed spine was no small feat. “I had no idea.”

She sniffled, and did her best to smile sunnily at him. “Well, it’s like you said. You had a lot on your mind! What with trying to save humanity and all.”

“You were very brave, Claudia. Thank you for staying.”

Claudia rubbed her eyes, and then hugged Viren tightly. “Well, yeah. You’re my dad. We’re a family.”

Viren nodded, and rested his hand against her back. “We are. And we’ll get through this… betrayal together.”

She leaned away from him. “Um, dad? Are… are  _ you _ okay?”

He sighed, and then spoke carefully. “I’m… disappointed. And yes, hurt by Soren’s short-sightedness. But, as you know, being a mage requires a great deal of self-control. And being a king requires even more self-control. If I allow the… pain, the disappointment, or the sorrow govern my actions or occlude my judgment, then I won’t be able to make the choices necessary to ensure our success. Do you understand?”

She was silent for a moment, taking in his words, and then nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” Viren stood, giving her one final, fatherly pat on the shoulder. “Good night, Claudia.”

“Night, dad.”

He left her tent with a warm expression, which rapidly cooled into a steely scowl. Yes, Viren loved his daughter, but he was livid to learn about what had transpired with the dragon. 

Of all the things that Viren had hoped would never come to pass, Callum touching magic - dark magic, even! - was one of them. And now someone privy to the royal secrets of Katolis had listened to the call of his mongrel blood and sided with Xadia, bringing the Dragon Prince home and dooming all of humanity. And worse, those actions _had hurt his children._

“So who  _ is _ this Callum that isn’t allowed to touch dark magic?” asked Aaravos, lounging on thin air beside Viren.

“Nobody important,” snapped Viren.

“Oh, Viren, Viren, Viren. I thought I was your little bug pal. There’s no need to  _ lie _ to me.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?”

Aaravos rolled over onto his back. “Well, out of the entire conversation that just transpired, the only thing that remotely bothered you was this Callum’s usage of dark magic. Not your son’s paralysis, not your son’s  _ betrayal,  _ not the fact that your children fought a dragon and lost, or that there’s a moonshadow elf on the loose with something you want…” He rolled over and leered at Viren. “Not even the mention of your ex-wife riled you up as much as this Callum did.” At Viren’s tight-lipped scowl, Aaravos practically beamed. He had Viren cornered, and Viren knew it. “So….” purred Aaravos, leaning in closer to whisper conspiratorially. “Who is he?”

“He’s the son of Queen Sarai from her previous relationship before she got together with King Harrow. The older brother of Ezran. He was forbidden from using magic by Harrow, despite evidence that he would be quite skilled as a mage.”

“That’s all?” Aaravos sounded disappointed. 

Viren dithered on whether or not to tell Aaravos the full truth of Callum’s parentage. On the one hand, the elf didn’t need to know EVERYTHING Viren knew. On the other, Aaravos might’ve had some insight about a phenomenon unheard of in centuries. Eventually, he decided it was information better shared. 

He smirked at Aaravos. “All? No, of course not. Sarai’s previous relationship was with an elf.”

The look of thunderstruck surprise on Aaravos’s face at this news was worth it to Viren.

“The  _ queen of Katolis _ had a carnal relationship with  _ an elf _ ?! What  _ kind _ of elf? Does the boy know?” Aaravos let out a short bark of a laugh. “A half-elf! A living, breathing half-elf? Oh Viren, you scoundrel, keeping that kind of information from me.” His face split with a sinister smile. “However have you kept THAT a secret?”

Viren swelled with pride. “A suppression spell, cast before he was born. So long as he didn’t use any magic, his arcanum and any elven traits would remain hidden. I modified it from an existing disguise spell I discovered in a rather old tome.”

“ _ Very _ clever. And I suppose your alarm at his dabbling in the dark arts means that he could potentially have the innate ability to cast magic now?”

“Quite possibly. And as for your other questions - yes, she did, I believe the father was a Skywing spy who tricked Sarai, and, to my knowledge, he has no idea. But if any of his father’s traits manifest, then he’ll soon learn in short order.”

Aaravos beamed, a scheme forming behind those silver-white eyes. “I simply cannot  _ wait _ to meet him.”

Viren hummed noncommittally, hiding his concern. It bothered him, Aaravos’s interest in the boy, but Viren flicked aside any small amount of jealousy. Viren was a far more useful ally to Aaravos in every capacity, and besides - the Startouch elf was mysterious, but he was aware of Aaravos’s tendency to view people as tools. Whatever the elf had in mind for Callum and his mongrel blood, it surely wasn’t going to be something the boy would find pleasant. He had nothing to worry about.

They had reached the top of the hill, and Viren surveyed his army. For now, they paced back and forth, a battalion of sun-infused brutes ready to wreak havoc on any opposing force. Their glowing eyes turned towards him, a sea of expectant embers. “Tonight, we prepare! For tomorrow at dawn… we ride forth, and conquer Xadia!” 

The triumphant roars drowned out all other sound. Viren turned to Aaravos, and smiled. 

Oh, he couldn’t wait until sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want it to feel like Viren and Claudia are doing what they think is the right thing, while also showing that their attitude of the ends justifying the means really isn't good for everyone else involved. I have strong opinions about Viren, Claudia and Aaravos that I'll get into in later chapters, but for now enjoy this little sampling of trying to shade these complex characters as morally gray.
> 
> Except Aaravos. Worm man is a stinky bastard boy and him being this excited about Callum should concern everyone.


	4. Ascent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla finally reach the Storm Spire. When Ezran arrives, it's time for Callum to catch his brother up and explain that the horns and pointed ears aren't a disguise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of stuff from canon that I skimmed over! I didn't feel like rehashing every single scene, so I didn't. If I didn't explicitly narrate it here, you can assume it happened more or less as in canon.

The stone remains of Thunder loom over the field, reaching out towards the peak of the tallest mountain Callum has ever seen. 

He and Rayla stand side by side, quietly, staring up at the colossal form without saying anything. They don’t really need to, they’re both experiencing their emotions on different wavelengths, but the reassurance of each other’s presence is enough.

They’d reclaimed Zym from Nyx - although, thanks to some well-timed zaps, he hadn’t really needed rescuing when Nyx flew off with him. And then Rayla had dove into a nest of soul-fangs to rescue Nyx, who had been injured by Zym’s electricity, and Callum had said a bunch of heart-felt, nice things about Rayla. In hindsight, it would’ve been a great time to plant a kiss on her, Callum thought, kicking himself mentally. Tht is, of course, assuming she would’ve wanted him to. He wasn’t even sure if she liked him that way, what with him being human - half-human, he reminded himself. Was that worse than being human? Better? Did Rayla like him or was he too… not her type? What WAS Rayla’s type?

But, right now, girl troubles weren’t really the main thing on his mind. 

As he gazed up at the dragon’s stone form, the main thing he was feeling was angry. And hurt. And sad. 

He was feeling a lot of things.

He spotted a detail - a spear, jutting out from Thunder’s chest. A spear he’d know anywhere - his mother’s. 

Callum had a lot of feelings about his mom he needed to unpack as well - how he’d been conceived out of love but also out of trickery, how his mom had hidden his true nature from everyone to protect him, how he felt about THAT, the grief over her death. Mostly, Callum just had questions, questions he’d never get the answer to.

Then, of course, was his fresher grief over King Harrow’s death. Despite meeting Zeru, the elf wasn’t the man who raised him. It was Harrow’s hazel eyes that lit up with delight when Callum gave him birthday drawings. It was Harrow at his bedside at age 7, fluttering gentle fingers over his abdomen to help calm his upset stomach. It was Harrow making snowmen at the Banther Lodge, awkwardly trying to tell him about girls and puberty, standing solemnly between he and Ezran every year on their mother’s birthday as they visited her grave. 

And it was Harrow who had plunged the spear into the heart of Thunder - Zym’s father. He’d done it to avenge Callum’s mother, but something about it… felt wrong. He didn’t think his mom would’ve approved. 

Behind him, Zym whimpered, and shied away from the hulking statue. “Oh no, shh, Zym, it’s okay,” said Rayla softly as she picked up the baby dragon and cradled him. He curled into the crook of her neck and whined. Sadly, Callum turned and patted Zym on the head, smoothing the mane of white fur down to comfort him. 

“How are  _ you  _ holding up?” asked Rayla, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Callum grunted noncommittally. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now. Angry, sad, hurt, afraid… mostly, I just wish none of this had happened.” He realized what he was saying, that he implied that he wished he hadn’t met Rayla, but when he startled up and looked at her, embarrassed, she was only smiling at him sadly. “No, I get it, sad prince. But I am glad I met you, anyway.”

“I’m glad I met you too. And Zym!”

The dragon looked skyward, and began squeaking with urgency, clamoring over Rayla’s shoulder and bounding across the grassy field. 

Rayla and Callum followed his gaze upwards, where a shadowed shape was growing larger, silhouetted against the morning sun. Callum shielded his eyes and squinted, tensing in preparation for an attack.

“Is that Phoe Phoe?” said Rayla, withdrawing her hands from the blades at her back. 

“Phoe Phoe? What’s she doing this far from the Moon Nexus?”

Zym yelped with delight, and flew up towards the descending phoenix. “Zym!” called a familiar voice, and Callum jolted at the sound.

“Ez!!” he called, waving delightedly at the sound. He ran towards the spot where Phoe Phoe was coming in for a landing, and Rayla observed that the moon phoenix didn’t look too hot. But she smiled with delight as Callum all but tackled his little brother and swept him up into a bear hug.

Ez laughed with joy at the sudden embrace from his big brother. “Rayla, get in here!” he called, and she wasted no further time, hugging the two boys and dragon that meant the world to her. 

Bait grunted, reminding everyone of his presence, and crawled onto Rayla’s lap as she crouched beside Ezran. “Aw, I missed you too, ya grumpy frog,” she said fondly. 

Ez stepped back from the hug, and gave Callum a credulous once-over. “Wow, great Elf Callum disguise!” he said, after a few moments. “Did you find a moon mage like Lujanne?”

Callum tensed - in his excitement over seeing Ezran alive and well, he’d completely forgotten about the recent revelations regarding his heritage. “Uh, sorta. I can tell you about it on the way up the spire,” he said, rubbing his neck nervously. 

Ez began to give him a doubtful look, but suddenly the boy turned with alarm. “Oh no, Phoe Phoe!” He ran to her side, with Callum and Rayla close behind. 

She looked unwell, as she lifted her head weakly to croon at Ezran. “She worked so hard to get me here, she’s used up all her energy,” he explained, sadly. He placed a small hand on her feathered chest. “You did so good, Phoe Phoe, it’s okay now. You can rest.”

The words seemed to be what she needed to hear, and she closed her eyes. A small spark of blue fire bloomed from her heart, and rapidly engulfed the bird, causing Ezran to gasp in sad horror as the phoenix gave up the last of her life, burning rapidly to ash in the azure flames of moonlight. 

The five of them mourned Phoe Phoe’s passing in silence, until a single blue feather drifted down from the cloud of smoke. Of course - she was a  _ phoenix _ . Ez smiled sadly, and pocketed the feather. 

Solemnly, the boy then moved to Thunder’s stone form, and placed a hand on the leg of the colossus. He looked up, and Callum hadn’t noticed it before, but that same serious expression was on his brother’s face, the one he’d worn when he explained that he was returning to the castle to govern the country as its king. Callum had a million questions, about why Ezran was here, what had transpired in the last ten or so days in Katolis, and what it was that made his happy-go-lucky bright eyed brother suddenly so serious, so much older-seeming. 

After a spell, Ezran turned to Callum and Rayla, and smiled again. “C’mon guys, lets get Zym back to his mom.”

The gang set out for the base of the Storm Spire.

Callum WANTED to explain to Ezran about everything that had happened in Alendis, about Zeru, about the ruins of Elarion, about  _ what _ he was, but it turned out that climbing up the steep stairs took all his breath. As they climbed higher and higher, the air got thinner and thinner, and Callum could feel the Sky within him surging even as his breath weakened. He collapsed, shortly after Rayla, and the next thing he knew, Ezran had found a dragon friend and learned the necessary rune for allowing them all to breathe. 

Weakly, Callum drew the rune, and as the air flooded into his lungs, he gasped, his senses returning to full operations as he finally got enough oxygen. Ez and Bait did the same, and Callum then rushed to Rayla’s side to assist her where she had fallen. 

“C’mon Rayla, wake up,” he murmured as the swirling wind rushed into her mouth, causing her to gasp as she woke. 

“Callum,” she said softly, and fell into his arms in a relieved embrace. He blushed faintly, and returned her hug, but the tender moment was interrupted as his body decided to react to the strengthening energies of the Sky around him. Unbidden, and with a feathery  _ thwump,  _ his wings forced their way out of him.

“Uhhhh….” stammered Ezran, with a confused look. “That’s… not part of the spell.”

“Yeah, so…” Callum started, awkwardly. “A lot happened while you were away.”

They spent the rest of the climb recounting their respective stories. Ezran, of the council and Kasef and abdication and Soren helping him, and Callum of Ethari’s enchantment and Alendis and Zeru. They both had questions, of course - Callum immediately disliked Kasef, and while credulous of Soren’s intentions was glad and grateful that he helped Ezran. And Ezran, for his part, listened to Callum’s story with confused interest. When Callum told Ez of how he discovered he had wings, Ez peppered him with questions. Did it hurt? Where do they go when they aren’t out? Did the doctors notice he was human? Can he fly now?

(As Ez patted and poked at the wings, Callum noted with increasing stress that he’d tried to dismiss them at least a dozen times on their hike up the mountain, and yet the will to tuck them away seemed to do nothing. For now, the wings were staying out.)

“Okay, so Rayla’s uncle made you a disguise and then you found out that the wings are real and not part of the disguise.” Ez tilted his head to the side and regarded his brother. “Is the illusion like Ava’s necklace, where you can take it on and off, or does Ethari have to make it go away? Because it’s a cool disguise and all but you don’t have to wear it around me.”

Callum inhaled a nervous breath. “It’s… not a disguise. Well, not entirely.” He took off the gloves, revealing his five-fingered hand beneath. Ezran frowned at his hand, processing, and then looked up at his brother, eyes wide. 

“I don’t get it.”

Rayla drew up behind Callum. “I can tell him if you’re not ready,” she said quietly. Callum shook his head, and continued the story.

“Well, after I got released from the hospital, I was sent to meet the guy who was going to be my instructor. Zeru. He’s a sky elf, and apparently their best guy for teaching magic. Except he’d also been spying on me and Rayla, so he knew I wasn’t an elf.

“He took me to learn magic and flying in some old ruins - Elarion, actually, remember Master Eddis teaching us about that during history lessons?” Ezran nodded. “Yeah. Well, they’re still there, in Xadia, so… he took me there, since elves won’t go near it. And while he was teaching me how to fly, he also told me about the time he was a spy at the Breach and fell in love with a human soldier.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” said Ez. “See, I know elves and humans can get along if they just try.”

Callum and Rayla gave each other an awkward glance. “Uh, well, the human didn’t know he was an elf, and she was pretty mad when she found out, because he’d lied to her.”

Ezran’s face fell. “Oh.” He thought about it a little. “Wait, if she was a soldier at the breach, we should find out who she was. Maybe Aunt Amaya knows her.”

The older prince drew in a shaky breath. “Zeru already told me who she was, and Aunt Amaya definitely knew her. It… it was Mom.”

“Really?” Ezran stared with wide eyes at his brother, still not quite catching up to what Callum was saying.

Callum inhaled, and braced himself for what he had to say next, slightly resenting that he had to spell it out. “He’s my birth father.”

“What?!” yelped Ezran, before his eyes narrowed. “Wait, how do you know? Just because he was in love with Mom doesn’t mean he and mom... “ Ezran scowled. “... Made sandwiches.”

“No, Ez, even before…” Callum gestured to his head, indicating his horns and ears, “THIS happened, it just made too much sense. Mom proposed to Zeru six months before I was born, which means she would’ve already been pregnant with me. And I saw his human disguise, he is  _ definitely _ my birth father.”

“Oh.” Ezran was quiet, taking this in. “So wait… if he's an  _ elf _ , that means  _ you’re _ kind of an elf.”

Callum nodded a tense, curt nod.

“So…” Ez continued, cautiously, as thought he was putting the ideas together. “The horns and ears aren't a disguise.”

Again, Callum nodded stiffly, hunching slightly. Behind him (unnoticed by him, but not Rayla or Ezran), his wings shifted protectively around his back and fluffed up, giving Callum the overall appearance of an upset bird. 

Ezran stopped a few steps above Callum and turned to look directly at his brother. Callum stopped abruptly and his brows furrowed, looking at Ezran questioningly. “Uh, Ez?” Wordlessly, the younger boy threw his arms wide, a determined frown on his face. He was gonna hug  _ the heck _ out of Callum. 

Callum accepted his brother’s hug. “You’re  _ my _ brother, no matter what anyone says or what you look like,” said Ez, a note of fierceness in his young voice that Callum hadn’t heard before. “No matter what.”

Callum had to swallow a sob as relief washed over him. He hadn’t expected anything but acceptance from Ezran, but hearing it confirmed from his own brother’s mouth put many of his anxieties to rest. 

Then, a detail he’d skimmed over earlier forced its way to the front of his mind. “Wait. Who told you about  _ making sandwiches _ ?!”

Ezran shifted uncomfortably. “Some banthers. Corvus and I found a den, and the mommy and daddy banther were, um…” He gestured side to side with his eyes, turning slightly pink beneath his freckles as Callum stared, wide-eyed. “Anyway, then Corvus explained that’s how babies get made.”

Behind them, Rayla gasped for air as she laughed hysterically.  _ Of course _ Ezran learned about the birds and the bees from the animal kingdom. She would’ve felt bad for Corvus, but… she didn’t.

They finished the rest of their ascent with Callum filling Ezran in on the remainder of their journey. How the cursed lead rod in the ruins of Elarion had undone the spell making him seem fully human and about their encounter with Nyx and the soulfangs. 

Finally, they reached the peak of the spire. 

Callum breathed out, and he felt his wings shift and return to their concealed state (with some annoyance, because the extra weight had made climbing more difficult). But his annoyance faded quickly with the relief that their climb - and their journey - was at its end. “I can’t believe we finally made it,” he said, glancing around the hewn stones lined in runes and taking it all in. 

A figure emerged from the shadows of the entrance - an elf with cobalt-gray skin and white hair, holding a staff with a blue Sky primal stone mounted on top. 

Rayla strode forward. “We’ve brought him home! The Dragon Prince has returned!”

“We brought him back to his mother!” added Ezran, lifting Zym up to show the elf. 

“My heart leaps for joy, to see Prince Azymondias alive and well,” said the elf, smiling warmly at the group before him. He glanced down, though, a flicker of sadness crossing his face. 

“But I’m afraid you’re too late. Queen Zubeia is dying.”


	5. Atop the Spire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ibis gets the Dragang settled in, but the Storm Spire holds painful memories for Rayla. Meanwhile, Callum has a nightmare.

The dragon queen was at death’s door, in an unwaking sleep brought on by her grief. Ibis, the skywing mage tending to her, explained this all with sad patience and kindness. But Prince Azymondias was afraid to enter the chamber and finally see his mother. 

Reverentially, Ezran approached the behemoth form of the sleeping Queen, and placed a small hand on her snout. She could eat him in one bite, observed Callum, but nothing happened. The dragon remained asleep, the whoosh of her enormous lungs creating a soft wind in the luminescent cavern. Silently, Ez turned to look at Ibis questioningly, and the mage shook his head in solemn sadness.

Still, the trio had brought the dragon prince back to his mother, and Ibis wasn’t about to send them BACK down the mountain, not with night approaching. He showed them to a series of sleeping chambers, warms cubbies dug in the rock and decked with soft cloth and feathery hammocks. Very Skywing decor, Rayla observed. 

They passed one final room at the end of the hall. “I thought this room might be more suited to Miss Rayla and young Ezran’s tastes,” explained Ibis, touching a rune on the wall and illuminate the chamber. The room was small and tidy, with a window near the ceiling that showed the almost-full moon perfectly. There was a proper bed, although it hung from the ceiling via strong cables, like the beds in at the Moon Nexus, and various odds and ends and decorative details put Callum to mind instantly of the Silvergrove.

But it wasn’t the decor that got to Rayla. It was the smell.

In an instant she had been overwhelmed by the scents of her parents - her mother’s favorite tea, her father’s special blend of massage oil he applied after training, their clothes, their cosmetics,  _ them _ . She bit back a sob, and backed out of the room, shaking her head. “No. I’ll sleep in a hammock, or in the antechamber. Not here.”

Ezran gave her a confused, worried look as she ran down the hall, away from the room and from the sudden flood of emotions. There was a beat of a glance exchanged between the two brothers, and then Callum ran off down the hall after her. 

“Was it something I said?” said Ibis, to no one in particular, as he stood in the room unsure of what had caused such a reaction.

Callum found Rayla huddled at the edge of the fountain in the antechamber of the queen, hunched over and shaking -  _ crying _ , he realized. 

“Rayla, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, sitting down and placing a comforting arm around her. This time, she didn’t shove him away, just curled in more, pulling her hood over her face as she clutched her knees. Callum wanted to press her further, but this time, he waited, rubbing small circles with his thumb between her shoulder blades as she sobbed quietly. 

Suddenly, she sat up and furiously wiped her face. “It was my parents’ room,” she said, bitterly, trying to banish the tears leaking out of her traitorous eyeballs. “I just… I couldn’t stay in there. The room  _ smells _ like them.”

Leaning back on his hands, Callum nodded. “After my mom died, I couldn’t go near the bakery for months. She used almond oil on her skin, and almonds are a key ingredient in some pastries. Even now, almonds… kinda make me sad. I get it.”

“You don’t think it’s dumb?” She glanced aside at him, the faintest flicker of worry on her face, afraid to show him all of her emotions even after all they’d been through.

“Rayla, I could never think you’re dumb.” Earnest as ever, he leaned forward and took her hands in his. “Stubborn, yes, and you really need to work on not bottling your feelings up, but dumb? No way.” He smiled, softly, and leaned forward. “Your feelings aren’t dumb, Rayla.”

Once again, the raw force of his emotions, uninhibited and unashamed, left Rayla reeling. Her shame and feelings of abandonment swiftly faded to a dull thud behind the beating of her heart, pulsing strongly in her ears. She felt the tips warm and the blush creep into her cheeks as she gazed into his eyes, almost oblivious to the pink flushing down his cheeks and up to the small points of his ears. 

He swallowed nervously, and she swallowed too, aware that they were inching closer and closer together, their faces mere inches apart.  _ Just do it! _ her mind shouted at her.  _ Get in there and show him how you feel! _

Rayla had finally steeled her nerves enough to close the gap when Ezran and Ibis entered the room. “Miss Rayla, I do apologize if I’ve made you uncomfort--- oh dear, did we interrupt something?”

Callum and Rayla had spontaneously teleported to opposite sides of the fountain, beet red and magenta respectively. Rayla was again clutching her hood around herself protectively, but for a completely different reason this time. 

“Nope! Just having a conversation!” said Callum, rather too quickly, too stiffly.

Ibis allowed the ghost of a smile to cross his lips, a sudden knowing look in his eyes. “Well then, forgive me for interrupting, but I’ve prepared a different chamber with some bedding that may be more comfortable for you than what we Skywings are used to.”

He led them to a different chamber, where blankets and two bed rolls had been laid on the floor. A hammock hung in the corner, and a small nest of blankets, feathers and grass had been made as well. 

“Young Azymondias seems fond of you,” the mage explained, “and I don’t have the heart to separate him.” He bade them goodnight, and retreated to his own sleeping quarters.

Awkardly, Callum glanced around the room. “So… did he hide the third bed, or…?”

“Maybe he thinks you’ve always been a Skywing elf,” explained Ezran through a yawn, pointing to the hammock. Bait gurgled in agreement as Ezran crawled beneath the blankets on one of the bed rolls, and Callum eyed the hammock. Eventually, reluctantly, ungracefully, he climbed into the sling and wriggled around, getting comfortable. 

The hammock was lined with soft fur and feathers, and there were two slits in the bottom, where a pair of wings could easily hang freely. Indeed, he felt increased weight as he gradually relaxed into sleep, his wings unfolding and dangling below him. The pillows had clearly been arranged for someone with horns on the sides of their head, and were quite comfortable and supportive. Without the scrape of the ground against the appendages, Callum drifted into easy sleep. 

_ He was sitting in a high tree, next to Rayla, her three fingers tucked perfectly between his four. She all but glittered in the moonlight, white hair falling softly over her bare shoulder. Wordlessly, she drew the paintbrush down his arm, reapplying the spirit bark paint. She reached out, and the coolness of the brush traced down his chest. She finished her work, and looked at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.  _

_ A heartbeat’s moment, and then she was on top of him, kissing him passionately as he traced his hands down her bare back. The crush of her mouth against his made him shudder, and she tasted like moonberries and peanut butter. _

_ Peanut butter? _

_ Rayla, still on top of him, sat up and snorted with laughter. Her image flickered, and shifted - white hair turned black, horns vanished, ears rounded.  _

_ “WOW, Callum, you really are going native, aren’t you?” Claudia grinned down at him, her expression teasing but a cold glint lurking behind her green eyes.  _

_ “Go away, Claudia, he said, averting his eyes and turning away. _

_ “Aww, no more fun dreams about me and my peanut-butter-breath?” she teased. She sidled off of him and laid down in his field of vision, fully clothed now.  _

_ “You betrayed me,” he said, bitter.  _

_ “I guess? Although honestly, you betrayed me first, what with tricking me and Soren. Oh, and fleeing the castle the night King Harrow died. Kind of a huge ‘betraying humanity’ move.” _

_ “It was the right thing to do,” he said angrily, sitting up. “Keeping a  _ baby _ hostage is wrong.” _

_ “Didn’t mean you had to go and turn into an elf,” she said, as she dissipated into mist. _

_ Callum was suddenly aware of the weight on his head, the weight on his back. He watched in horror as his skin turned to slate grey, and his pinkies dropped off his hands, falling into the void.  _

_ The weight on his back and head increased ,and increased, the horns curling to each side in abstract, meandering spirals, the wings enormous and misshapen, a mess of bone and feather and leather.  _

_ As he sank into the black goop the floor had turned into, around him, voices echoed - every bigoted word he’d ever heard, ever said about elves, about beast-like horns and ears, about missing a finger and drinking blood, running wild with animals with eyes that shone in the dark. We must not look on elvenkind, the poem went. And he was aware, painfully aware, that the words said in his own voice, his tutor’s voice, the voices of his friends and family, as each word echoed, the words were about him. About his too-green eyes or quite demeanor or sharp memory. _

_ “A monster,” echoed Gren’s voice, repeating what Callum had told him that day about Rayla. _

_ A monster. _

_ A monster… _

He awoke with a gasp, in the same room he’d gone to sleep in. No void, no creepy version of Claudia, no blue skin and still five fingers. He sighed with relief, and then frowned. First he was feeling uncomfortable with the sudden elf puberty business (on top of regular puberty which already was dumb), and now he was having nightmares? Great.

The first rays of dawn were peeping over the horizon, so Callum opted to get up instead of laying in his hammock and moping, leaving Rayla, Bait, Ezran and Zym to get the sleep they needed. He did note that he hadn’t needed much sleep since Alendis, and wondered if sleeping less was an elf thing.

Callum found his way to the pinnacle of the Storm Spire, and found Ibis there, doing some manner of slow, deliberate dance. Well, it looked like a dance, but it also looked like stretching, or like some of the training drills Soren had tried to make him learn. 

“Would you care to join me?” called Ibis after Callum watched him for a minute. 

“I… don’t really know how to do this,” said Callum, hesitantly, as he approached Ibis and stood awkwardly to the side.

“Mm, no I suppose they don’t teach this in Katolis,” said the mage, not breaking his movements. “It’s an old Skywing martial art, with which we greet the day and prepare our bodies to receive and channel the power of Sky. Follow along with what I do, and try to feel the Sky moving through you as you do.”

“How’d you know I grew up in Katolis?” asked Callum, doing his best to keep pace with Ibis’s controlled movements, pushing his hands outward from his chest and shifting slowly from one foot to the other.

“Full-blooded elves only have four fingers,” said Ibis. His tone was casual, as if he were discussing the weather. 

Callum had forgotten to put his gloves back on when he first showed Ezran that his… current appearance was as-is. Oops. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Ibis drew his hands in towards his belly and shifted his weight to the center, inhaling deeply and then exhaling. Callum clumsily followed along. “Your parents likely knew the world wouldn’t be easy for you or for themselves, and yet followed their bliss anyway. It isn’t my place to judge.”

Ibis extended an arm and sank down into a crouch, which Callum realized was a leg stretch as soon as he mimicked the movement. “Extend your wing as well,” instructed Ibis, which Callum did. Ibis nodded in approval, and then shifted sides, extending the other arm and leg into a stretch for the opposite side. 

“Can I ask you a question?” said Callum, looking down the length of his arm and the grey wing beside it, then to Ibis’s wingless back.

“You may.”

“Another Skywing elf we met said that wings were ‘use them or lose them.’ I don’t really trust her, because she tried to kidnap Zym, but ever since then my wings come out and go away at random. I’m worried they’re either going to go away forever, or that I’m going to have them out forever. How right was she?”

Ibis moved to the next form, and waited for Callum to follow along before answering. “She wasn’t entirely wrong. The ability to have them in or out is rare, even rarer than naturally having wings. Of course, there are spells - difficult ones, mind you - that allow one’s arms to become wings. But for most Skywing children, the ability to switch their wings on or off fades over time, and eventually the child must choose.” He glanced sidelong at Callum. “Having human ancestry in the mix likely complicates matters, as would being at the place Sky magic is the strongest.”

“We’re at the Sky Nexus?” said Callum, suddenly eager to learn more about magic. 

Ibis laughed gently. “Technically, Sky magic is strongest in, well, the Sky. But no place in the world gets the land and the sky so close to one another. So for those who cannot access the Sky directly via flight, this place is where Sky magic is strongest.”

Callum thought about this. “What would you do, if you were me? What would you choose?”

Ibis gave it some thought. “You see these runes?” he said, gesturing at his arm, and then shooing Callum back a few steps. “ _ Manus. Pluma. Volantis!” _ As he spoke the incantation, feathers bloomed along his arms, transforming the limbs into a pair of glossy brown wings. 

“Whoa. That’s so cool!”

Ibis chuckled. “Yes, it is rather cool. But I hope you’ll take it how I meant it - that one doesn’t necessarily need wings growing out of their back to fly. Granted,” and here he gestured with the ends of his wings, “it would be nice to have hands AND fly at the same time, but it isn’t necessary. Ultimately, I think the choice will be up to you.”

With a feathery pop, Callum’s wings chose that moment to de-summon themselves. “If they’ll let me choose,” he said sourly. 

“Indeed. Well,” said Ibis, looking towards the horizon where the sun was fully crested in the sky. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the nearest village and pick up some more supplies. I wasn’t expecting guests, and growing children need their breakfast.” He stepped to the edge of the Spire and jumped, soaring into the air, and leaving Callum alone on the pinnacle to mull over his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The official notes about the Sky Primal is that they really value personal freedom, so I'm kind of extrapolating that the Skywings are REALLY chill about what other people do with their lives. Like, sure, Ibis thinks this half-elf kid is really weird and HE wouldn't do *that* with a human, but whatever, that's him and not whatever elf is Callum's parent, it's not his place to judge.


	6. The March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching up with Amaya, Janai and Zeru before they arrive at the storm spire.

_ Dear Aunt Amaya, _

_ I want to start by apologizing for lying to you back at the Banther Lodge. The Moonshadow elf there was actually helping us do something important, and we weren’t sure you’d understand or allow us to leave. Since I’m in Xadia now, I figured I’d come clean and tell you the truth. Rayla (that’s the elf), Ez and I found the egg of the Dragon Prince in Viren’s dungeon labs and were taking him home to Xadia, hopefully so we can stop the war that’s brewing. _

_ And, about two weeks ago, we hatched the egg and now I’m kind of raising a baby dragon. Sorry for not telling you sooner. _

_ A lot has happened since then – Ez can tell you about the first part of our journey, since hopefully he’s made it back to the castle by now with Corvus. Rayla and I decided to continue our mission into Xadia, and she and I are currently in the city of Alendis. We first met Rayla’s uncle, who gave me a disguise amulet, and then we went to the magic academy here so I could learn Sky magic. I managed to connect to a primal source and I’ve been learning how to be a mage! That’s where I met Zeru, the guy who delivered this letter to you – he was assigned to be my magic teacher. I guess you would have known him as Dan?  _

_ Anyway, I know you know about him and mom, and about me. Apparently it’s a big secret so I won’t say it here, but I want you to know that I know too. So does Zeru. Please don’t kill him, even if he was a jerk for hurting mom’s feelings and you hate his guts.  _

_ You should probably know that next time you see me I might look a little different. Apparently I was supposed to avoid dark magic at all costs and uh, I didn’t. I messed up, and… well I guess you can figure out what I mean. I hope you’ll tell Ezran, because I don’t think he’ll believe it coming from anyone else.  _

_ Don’t worry about me, okay? Rayla is very strong, and she’s proven time and time again that I she’s someone I can trust. And now that I know magic, I’m learning how to defend myself, too! We’re going to be okay. When I get back, we can all go to the Banther Lodge and stuff ourselves silly with jelly tarts.  _

_ Keep an eye on Ez for me, okay? Dad’s death is hitting him really hard, and he’s probably not letting on how scared he is of being king. Oh, and keep Viren far, far away from him. Between what happened with the egg and him sending Soren and Claudia to kidnap us, I don’t trust him and he’s not someone who should be helping Ez make decisions. _

_ I love you, and hopefully I’ll see you soon. _

_ -Callum _

Amaya folded the letter and leaned back against the tree, rubbing her face. 

Between her nephews’ actions, her sister’s former boyfriend who was secretly an elven spy standing nearby and apparently helping her, and her own current predicament of technically being the Sunfires’ prisoner while also sort of leading their army into battle against her own people, she had no idea how to untangle the incredible mess she found herself in.

She re-read the letter and waved to catch Zeru’s attention.

“ _ What does Callum mean when he says he looks different?”  _ she asked. 

Zeru shifted, his wings fluffing up slightly, a sign of discomfort. It was weird seeing Dan - Zeru - in his true form, and wings had never even been something she considered when she would fantasize about punching his stupid elf face in. “There was a magical mishap and the spell making him look human was broken.”

Amaya’s eyes widened and she signed frantically. “ _ Is he hurt?! What does he look like now?!” _

He opened his mouth to explain and then paused, instead opening a satchel at his hip and withdrawing a small field journal. He flipped through the pages and then showed Amaya a sketch. It was indeed Callum, and a rather good likeness of her nephew, but the pointed ears and horns were new. The sketch had clearly been taken from life, and depicted Callum sitting next to the elf girl from the Banther Lodge, the two of them laughing about some shared joke. 

It was nice, seeing her beloved sister’s son so happy, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

Zeru closed the journal and stashed it, and then met Amaya’s eyes. “I want to apologize for hurting Sarai those years ago. I won’t apologize for the deception - I’m certain you can understand the foolishness of saying ‘oh, by the by, I happen to be an elven spy on a long-term reconnaissance mission, that’s not a problem is it?’” Amaya snorted with laughter at his sarcasm, and gestured for him to continue. “Ahem, yes, well. I don’t regret my relationship with her, and I don’t regret telling her when I did. But I do regret how it hurt her, and I regret that I never got the chance to know Callum until recently. And I’m sorry for how my actions hurt you and hurt her.”

Amaya’s anger at seeing him had already cooled significantly. She’d had most of the previous day to think about things - think about Viren, think about Janai’s sister and her grief, think about Callum and his errant father - and she decided that the past was the past. They had all made mistakes, rooted in hurt feelings and bigotry. But there was now war looming on the horizon, and Amaya was certain what side she stood on now. It certainly wasn’t the side that took good, loyal soldiers and turned them into mindless monsters.

She punched him lightly on the shoulder, and held out a hand. “ _ I forgive you _ .” Zeru shook her hand, and puffed up in surprise when she yanked him into a spine-crunching bearhug. Amaya then pulled away, and said “ _ I can’t believe she almost married you.” _

At this, Kazi choked in surprise and began coughing. “Forgive me, you did say  _ marry _ , yes? As in marriage?”

Amaya nodded and rolled her eyes. “ _ He baked her custom jelly tarts every day for a year. That was prime husband material in her book.” _

Zeru had turned an interesting shade of purple on his slate-blue cheeks at this. 

“Yes, but…” Kazi continued, fidgeting. “A human and an elf?”

Amaya thought about the fond image of Callum and the elf girl, and her gaze drifted slightly towards where Janai was saddling up Duveteux, her inferno tiger. “ _ Must run in the family _ .”

Janai noticed the human staring at her, and smiled faintly, waving the trio over. “It will take most of the morning to reach the Storm Spire on the inferno tigers,” she explained, swatting away the affectionate nuzzles the winged cat was attempting to knock her over with. “The rest of the soldiers will march with Kamus in the lead, and will arrive just before nightfall.”

“ _ Hopefully, we won’t be too late _ .” Amaya turned to Zeru. “ _ And you’re certain that Callum and the Dragon Prince will be there?” _

“I can’t guarantee it, but I do know they were going through the Midnight Desert to reach it, and therefore should have arrived by now, assuming they weren’t unduly delayed.”

“We protect the Dragon Queen either way,” stated Janai, leaving no room for argument. “The humans are marching on the Storm Spire, and I will not allow that vile monster to do to Zubeia what he did to Khessa.” For the faintest moment, the Golden Knight’s lip trembled, but she stuffed her grief somewhere deep inside herself and squared her shoulders.

“You will ride with me, General Amaya,” she ordered. “And you, Zeru, will scout ahead and inform them of our arrival.”

Zeru nodded, and took to the skies. 

The two women watched him fly away, and Janai then turned to Amaya. “You are certain we can trust him?”

Amaya thought about it. Janai had spent rather a long time complaining about the flighty nature of Skywing elves (“Cowardly birdbrains, all talk and no action. They think ‘freedom’ means ‘doing whatever you want’ and ‘running away at the slightest scent of danger’” had been her exact words), and seemed to have a low opinion of Zeru. And when Amaya had known him as Dan the Baker, he definitely wasn’t much of a fighter. But knowing that he’d been deep under cover for over three years and without drawing suspicion of his true nature, she figured that he did have a spine somewhere under all those feathers and robes. And while she knew Callum mostly took after Sarai - his stubbornness, his sincerity, his kindness all reminded her of her sister so much it ached - there was a quick-mindedness to the boy that she knew came from Zeru. 

In short, she wasn’t going to expect heavy artillery from the elf, but she could rely on him to at least deliver a message to whoever was at the Storm Spire.

“ _ He might run away after we get there, but he’ll at least let them know we’re coming.” _

Janai nodded, satisfied. “Well then, we should get on the march.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Duveteux" means "fluffy" in French. DPO said that Sunfires are very literal in their naming so I went literal. He's a good fluffy boy and Janai loves him.


	7. At the Spire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soren finally makes it to the storm spire and spends his day acclimating to his new normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that jsut did not want to be written, y'all.
> 
> I had no interest in recreating the good dialogue and impactful moments from Episode 8, so I struggled to find a way to express that they happened, without rewriting them. Figuring out what to focus on in and around that was a challenge, and my inspiration for this fic has dried up pretty well and good. I apologize for any weird transitions or abruptness, because after sitting on it for two months I just wanted to get the dang thing written.
> 
> I do want to see it through to the end of season 3, at least, because i know how I want to wrap things up, so there's probably about 2 more chapters? Anyway, this one's all about our favorite himbo, so I hope you enjoy.

Soren had lost count somewhere around 10,000 steps. Why did this stupid mountain have to have so many stairs!? 

He’d been climbing for hours, and had felt light-headed and short of breath for most of them, but he’d determinedly climbed onward. What other options did he have? His dad was on his way with an army of literal monsters, and the only friend he could count on in the world was the dethroned king, Ezran, who had indicated that the Storm Spire was his destination. Soren didn’t know what a Storm Spire was, but he’d seen a marker on his dad’s war maps and heard talk of it being a giant mountain, so he’d pointed himself at the largest visible mountain and hoped. The giant stone dragon at the base was a good sign, at least.

He was wheezing now, unable to get enough air into his lungs, and his legs were shaking. Soren was annoyed - what good were all those jogs up and down the tower stairs, if he couldn’t climb a dumb giant mountain?! But the oxygen deprivation was a little welcome, at least, because all he could think about was climbing one more stair. Not Claudia or Viren or all the other stuff he’d run away from.

A shadow swooped over him, and Soren squinted up at the sky. Dragons? Giant birds? He couldn’t stop now - he had to get to Ezran and warn him.

The shadow deepend, and it was neither dragon nor giant bird, but some kind of bird elf man, with blue skin, who landed on the stairs above Soren and crouched defensively. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Not here…” Soren gasped, struggling to speak as the thin air rattles weakly in his lungs. “... to fight. See… Ezran…” His legs wobbled beneath him, and the world swam. He staggered, trying to stay upright, but there wasn't enough  _ air _ , and his knees quit working. 

_ This is it _ , Soren figured. At least he’ll die trying to do the right thing instead of transfigured into some kind of scary fire monster. But then, like hearing sound underwater, he heard the elf speak some kind of elf words, and there was a white light and rush of air, filling his lungs at once.

Soren gasped, and bolted upright, coughing and gasping as the air flooded back into his lungs. He hopped up, the upward rush of air mussing his hair. Caught off-guard, Soren glanced around, and then back over at the elf, and squinted. “Okay, you’re still here so this isn’t the afterlife… is it?”

“No, you’re still alive. I used a spell to enable your lungs to breathe the thin air.”

“Oh.” Soren inhaled deeply, grateful for the feeling of air in his body. “Thanks, elf guy!”

The elf nodded. “You’re welcome. What’s this about an Ezran? I… assume you mean the crown prince of Katolis, yes?”

“Oh, yeah. I have something really important to tell him.” Soren blinked. “He’s here, right?”

“Prince Ezran? ”

“Yeah!” Soren pointed to the coat of arms on his chest, then flipped his cape over his shoulder with a cocksure grin. “I’m a Crownguard. I guard the crown.”

“I know what a Crownguard is,” said the elf flatly. “However, I’m uncertain if he’s here. However, the other prince, Callum, should be here. I’m delivering a message for him.”

“Oh, neat!” replied Soren. “We can climb the stairs together! I just… need a minute.”

Primly, the elf tucked his wings behind his back and knelt to hoist Soren up over his shoulder. Soren blinked, but obligingly let the elf help him up.

It was only a few minutes, but with Soren’s aching wobbly legs it felt much, much longer. And Soren’s mind buzzed with questions, but he was still a bit shaky from his climb. Finally, he and the elf crested the peak and arrived at the entrance of the Storm Spire. “Oh, I’m Soren, by the way,” he said to the elf as he released him. 

“Zeru,” came the reply, with a polite nod. 

“Soren!” called a voice, and Ezran came running out of the cave at the entrance of the Storm Spire, full tilt. 

“Soren? What’s he doing here?” came Callum’s voice, but the Step Prince wasn’t visible anywhere to Soren. Instead, two elves came jogging out behind Ezran, the moonshadow girl he’d met before (who didn’t even bother concealing her annoyance at seeing him), and another pointy-eared teenager that looked like --  _ wait _ .

“I  _ knew _ Moonshadow Madness was a thing!” Soren yelped, pointing at Callum, who skidded to a halt and glared at Soren in confusion. 

“Uh, good to see you too,” he said flatly, frowning. Callum then noticed who else had arrived. “Wait, what are you doing here, Zeru? And… with Soren?”

“And what, exactly, is this ‘Moonshadow Madness’ supposed to be?” said the elf girl (whose name was eluding Soren at the moment). 

Ezran, the two elves and the weirdly elf-like Callum all stared at him, expecting an answer.

“It’s uh… when Moonshadow elves bite humans and uh… turn them… into were-elves?” It only took a few seconds of silence for Soren to guess that he was very far off the mark. “Okay, so maybe not that.”

“Ya think?” replied the elf girl, scoffing. 

“What are you doing here, Soren?” asked Ezran. 

“Oh right! I have a very important message to deliver.” He straightened up and cleared his throat, before allowing all the worry and stress of what his current message was about to drop on him. “We’re all doomed.”

The rest of the day was a frenzy of activity and high emotions. After Soren and Zeru explained about the human armies on the march, the destruction of Lux Aurea, and the human soliders turned into monsters, several things had happened at once. Ibis had told Callum to take Zym and run, Rayla had refused to stand down, Zym had attempted to awaken his mother, Zeru had flown off to fetch Amaya, Janai and the Sunfire army, Ezran had taken Pyrrha to find more dragons to help defend the Storm Spire, and Callum had used the remaining fragments of the moonstone in his disguise ring to cast  _ Historia Viventem _ to find out what had really happened the day Zym’s egg was captured.

All in all, a very busy day. 

After their evening meal, Soren took it upon himself to explore the Storm Spire, with Bait in tow. He wanted very badly to ask Callum what the heck happened and why he was an elf now, but when he’d climbed to the pinnacle to track the step-prince down, he’d found Callum up there flying around with the baby dragon. It left Soren with more questions than before, but it also gave him an excuse to not have an awkward conversation with Callum.

So, instead, he wandered the back rooms of the mountaintop fortress, with Bait’s grumpy glow to light the way.

He was almost done exploring, when he heard a small sniffle from one of the rooms. Warily, stealthily, he peeked into the room, expecting an intruder or someone he’d missed earlier, but instead he found the elf girl, holding a piece of green fabric and… 

Crying?

Well, this was awkward. 

Rayla sat up and looked over at him sharply, before Soren even had the chance to turn to leave. He stood oafishly in the doorway, blinking as her expression turned from sorrow to rage in a flash, and she glared daggers at him.

Soren swallowed, and held up the hand that wasn’t carrying Bait in a pacifying gesture. “Sorry!” he said, trying to recover. “I uh, thought you might be an intruder or a ghost or something. I’ll go! I, just uh…” He held out Bait, who grunted disapprovingly. “You want some company? Bait’s getting kinda heavy. Or I can get Callum!”

“No!” spluttered Rayla, scrubbing her arm against her face and trying to get her feelings under control. “Ugh, I’ve had enough Big Feelings Time, today. I just…”

“I get it,” said Soren, quietly. “Look, it’s none of my business and I’m way better at swords and punching stuff than I am at feelings, but…” For the first time in what felt like days, he allowed himself to relax, to allow the tension of trying to do the right thing, the push-and-pull of making his dad proud versus doing the right thing. “I overheard what Callum said to you. About your parents and…” Soren’s shoulders sagged. “I know it won’t really do anything, but. I’m sorry.”

Rayla said nothing, but merely gazed at Soren blankly, watching him flounder for the words.

He shuffled and raked a hand through his hair. “Look. My dad isn’t… he isn’t a very good person. And it sucks that he… y’know.” 

At that, Rayla sighed. Soren, bless him, was trying. He was not doing a great job of comforting her but he WAS trying. “It does suck,” she said, resting her chin on her knees. “I spent the last several moons hating them, wishing they weren’t my parents. Turns out they did everything right.”

“I get it,” said Soren, quietly. “The whole wishing your parents weren’t your parents thing.” There’s more that he wants to say, an entire floodgate of emotions threatening to breach his defenses, but Soren decided that was a Soren problem and not something he needed to unload on an elf he barely knew and definitely wasn’t on great terms with. 

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, if you ever want to like. Fight your feelings out instead of talking about them, let me know. We can spar or something.”

At that, Rayla smiled. “Sure. I’ll kick your butt any time you want,” she teased, sniffling a little as she cheered up. 

“Aha, giving me the perfect opportunity to learn your moves and counter them,” teased Soren back, smirking. 

“You wish.”

Satisfied, Soren turned to go, but glanced back. “Wanna see if there’s any grub somewhere?”

Rayla shook her head. “Nah, I’m gonna spend a little more time in here. But thanks.”

Soren headed for the kitchens anyway, or at least what he assumed were the kitchens. There was a hole in the wall with a spot for a fire and a large table with several chairs, so it was kitchen-esque, at least. The kitchen was, however, occupied when he arrived. Their flying lesson done for the day, Callum and the baby dragon were there now, with Callum throwing bits of dried fish into the air for the dragon to catch. 

Bait grumbled a greeting, and wriggled out of Soren’s arms before falling to the floor with a plop. The glow toad trundled to Callum, who laughed lightly and hefted him off the floor and onto the table. As the dragon prince and Bait greeted each other, Callum turned to Soren. 

“Enjoying the Storm Spire?” he said casually, one of the giant grey wings tucking itself tightly behind Callum, as though it was trying not to be seen. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s very… cave-y,” said Soren in return, matching the deliberate casualness, as he went to a cabinet to look inside it. 

“There’s some kind of bird eggs in the next cabinet over,” said Callum, watching him. “I don’t really know how to make eggs, though.”

“I can fry some up if you’re hungry,” said Soren. They’d made the recruits cook all their own food in training camp, so while nothing he could make was all that fancy, Soren could fry things. He found the eggs, and crouched down by the fire place, which held a single log, barely glowing with dim embers. He got another log from the stand in the corner, and placed it over the embers, poking at them a little until the log above them caught aflame. 

“So what, you’re not going to ask?” said Callum, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Soren looked up sharply from his search for a frying pan. “Ask about what?” he said, confused and unsure if there was something he should’ve been paying attention to.

“About--” Callum gestured to his face and head. “About this.”

“Oh!” Soren frowned. “I mean, after I said the thing about Moonshadow Madness and everyone acted weird about it, I figured you didn’t want to talk about it. And there’s not really a great way to say ‘hey Callum, why are you an elf now?’ without looking like a huge jerk. I’m… kinda trying not to be a jerk anymore.”

Callum blinked. “You’re not?”

“Well, yeah,” said Soren, excavating an old griddle from a pile of pans. “These last few days have been really weird and I’ve had some time to think about stuff. About how I was a jerk to you and Ez, and about how my dad’s a jerk, and how I don’t want to be like him. And I know I said a bunch of mean stuff to you, and called you step prince and shoved you into the mud and stuff.”

“Soren, it’s okay, and-”

“It’s not okay, though. I’m older, and stronger, and I should’ve been a better friend. I want to do good. I want to  _ be _ good. And good guys don’t go around shoving kids that are weaker than them into the mud.”

Callum blinked, unsure of what to make of this confession. “I thought you hated Big Feelings Time.”

“I do! Everyone starts crying, and then it gets super awkward.” He cracked an egg onto the pan, and peered at it. Whatever Xadian bird had laid this egg was a lot larger than a chicken. “I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry. For being a jerk and not figuring it out sooner. And that’s why I didn’t ask.”

Callum shifted awkwardly. “Y’know, it’s funny that you mentioned calling me ‘step-prince,’” he said slowly. “That’s kinda why I’m like this.”

Soren turned slightly, looking over to Callum but keeping his attention on the sizzling egg. “What, you were mad at me, so you turned into an elf?”

“What? No. How would I even do that?” Callum shook his head. “Look, I found out about a week ago that my birth dad is an elf, and that your dad did some kind of magic to me before I was born to make it so I wouldn’t look like an elf.”

“So… you’re, what, a half elf?”

“Yeah.” Callum looked down at his hands. “Some weird magic happened and it undid Viren’s spell.”

Soren flipped the egg in the pan, and then scooped it onto what he hoped was a plate. “So you’ve just been all…” He dropped the plate in front of Callum and waggled his hand at him. “Pointy and feathery this whole time? And we didn’t know because of something my d-- something Viren did?”

Callum leaned his chin on one hand and jabbed the egg with his fork. “I guess? I had no idea.”

Soren scooped a fork full of egg into his mouth and chewed. “Is it weird?” he asked, mouth full, and then swallowed. “Being an elf, I mean, when you weren’t before.”

How did you answer a question like that? There was so much swirling around in Callum’s anxious mind about the whole situation that he’d tried to mentally distance himself from his new reality. Did he tell Soren about the difficulties trying to sleep on horns that jutted out from the sides of his head? Or about the end of his now-too-long ears raking against his hair, his horn, his shirt collar, and how freaked out it made him feel? About the unsettling sensation of his ears  _ moving _ , unbidden, with his facial expressions? About the thrill of flying, and also the terrifying reality that he could spontaneously manifest and vanish an entire set of limbs?

Callum settled on telling Soren the thing that was bothering him most, however. “Honestly, the worst part is wondering how everyone will react. Telling Ez was hard enough, telling Aunt Amaya is going to be torture. I was kind of avoiding you all day because I didn’t want you thinking I’m weird, or wrong, or a monster. I don’t even know how Claudia and Viren are going to react when we face them in battle. Everything’s so different.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re the same old nerdy Callum to me,” said Soren. “Even if, when all this is over, I’m  _ definitely _ making jokes about you being horny.”

“Please don’t.” 

Soren laughed in reply, and smirked, but the smirk faded. “If things were normal, Clauds would probably chase you around the castle trying to collect your toenail clippings or something gross like that.”

Callum smiled softly and sadly, at the notion. “I wish she’d have come with you.”

“Me too,” said Soren, his voice quiet and far away. 

Rayla walked into the kitchen at that point. “Hey, I wanted to let you know that I saw some folks coming in for a landing. I think it’s Zeru and your aunt, with a sunfire elf. “

With some effort, Callum willed his wings away, making his appearance a little less drastically different. “Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves. “Let’s go say hi.”

Rayla and Callum raced out, and Soren made to follow, but a groan from Bait stopped him in his tracks. He turned to see the glow toad and the baby dragon giving him sad puppy eyes from their perch on the table. “Aren’t you old enough to walk?” he asked Zym, who squawked and flopped over, feigning exhaustion.   
  
With a sigh, Soren scooped up Bait and Zym, the latter of whom scrabbled up his armor and draped himself around Soren’s neck like a scaly scarf. Together, they headed into the main hall to greet Amaya and the Sunfire general. 


	8. Family Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya arrives at the Storm Spire and reunites with Callum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story isn't dead, fam, I'm just really busy and don't have a ton of writing bandwidth, and when i do it's not always for this particular story. 
> 
> Try to avoid leaving me comments begging for updates or fretting about the story being abandoned, though. I got that anxiety poo-brain and these kinds of comments twig me out pretty bad. I do not mind you geeking out or all-capsing about what you loved, but try and respect that I'm usually maxed out mentally and I'll update eventually because I hate leaving things unfinished. I *do* have a few final beats I want to hit for this AU, to at least tie off this story. Whether I continue it after that will depend entirely on if I think of an angle that merits continuing the story.
> 
> Special shoutout to Razzareth, who, over this six month wait respected my mental and emotional health, and did me the kindness of pointing this out to others.

_Breachport Fortress, 16 years ago_  
  
Amaya eagerly rapped on the door of her sister’s chambers in the barracks. She was only a Captain, and if it were any other general, it would be incredibly improper of her to knock at this hour, but THIS general was her beloved big sister, and today was a special day.

Sarai had told her that morning she was going to finally pop the question to Dan, the baker she was absolutely smitten with and definitely doing improper non-general things with. He was good looking for a man (enough so that Amaya often wondered if he had a sister), clever and funny, intelligent, and could bake better than anyone else in Breachport. He was a good match for her sister, but more importantly, he made Sarai happy. And that’s what really mattered.

Amaya frowned in consternation. Sarai wasn’t answering the door. She knocked again, firmer, and waited. Sarai was home, she’d seen the lantern lit in her window before heading over, but it was strange she wasn’t answering the door.

With a shrug, she barged on in. She had the key, and Sarai hadn’t put the tiny slip of paper above the handle to indicate that she was not to be disturbed for… intimate reasons, so in Amaya went. 

Sarai was at the small dining table in her quarters, hunched over and staring into the fire. Her eyes were shining with moisture.

Oh no.

She rushed to her sister’s side, and at her approach Sarai turned towards her, scrubbing her eyes with her palms and inhaling sharply, trying to smile. Amaya shook her head firmly and sat down across from her.

“What happened?” she signed, frowning with concern. “Did he say no? I’ll kick his ass.”

Sarai shook her head. “Saying no would’ve been the kind thing to do. He…” Her face screwed up, another sob threatening to break through, but she swallowed it, ever the brave soldier. 

“What the hell could be worse than saying no to you?”

“He betrayed me.” Sarai had been using her mouth and voice to speak, and although Amaya couldn’t hear the inflection, the expression on her sister’s face said everything that tone would’ve conveyed. It was a hollow, hurt, empty sentence. 

Amaya’s eyebrows tilted together in worry, and she placed a hand on her sister’s wrist. At first, Sarai said nothing, just shook her head in bewildered grief, still reeling from the outcome of whatever happened, but then she rallied. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then frowned, before striding to the window and whisking the curtain in front of it. 

Confident that they were unobserved, now, Sarai returned to her stool at the table and used her hands to speak, the way she did when they were alone. “Dan was a spy.”

Amaya’s concern for her sister immediately turned to anger. “A spy? For who?! Neolandia? Eveneer?” The truce of the Pentarchy had held for centuries, but the thin peace constructed after the Mage Wars drained the human kingdoms dry of magic did not mean that intrigue and ‘keeping tabs’ wasn’t the norm. Katolis had spies in the other kingdoms, too, after all. It was just shocking that one of the other kingdoms would be so brazen as to fake interest in the general of Katolis’s first line of defense against Xadia.

Sarai laughed sharply, her body jerking angrily as she scowled. “It’d be hardly so awful if he was from the human kingdoms.” She shook her head. “Dan was a Xadian spy. An elf.”

Amaya sat there in thunderstruck silence for a moment, before jumping to her feet. “Where is he?” she signed, already mentally calculating how quickly she could fetch her armor, shield, sword and horse. 

“Back over the border, if he knows what’s good for him,” replied Sarai sullenly. 

“You let him leave?” asked Amaya, her face like a thunderstorm, before she paused, and thought it through further. “You let him live ?”

Sarai sighed angrily, clearly mentally cursing herself. “I know I should have killed him on the spot. Who knows what secrets he’s gathered while in my chambers, while... “ She waved her hand in the general direction of her bed. “It’s not just that he’s a spy, Amaya, he’s a spy who has been in an intimate relationship with the highest ranking officer of this battalion, for almost a year. He’s a spy who, until an hour ago, I thought was a man worth marrying.” Her anger crumpled, and she suddenly looked very afraid. “If word ever gets to the king or his advisers that an elf slipped through not only the fortress’s defenses, but my personal, intimate defenses… I’d be hanged for treason.”

Amayas blood ran cold. No one was more fiercely loyal to Katolis and the human kingdoms than her sister. The very notion of General Sarai being hanged for treason - treason that she didn’t even commit, because Dan was some elven monster who clearly gave no shits whatsoever about her sister’s well-being, much less her feelings. He’d pretended to be someone he wasn’t for years, snuck into her sister’s good graces, and then right at a moment of joy and romance, dashed it all to gloat about how he’d gotten one over on the General of the Standing Battalion, before rushing back to Xadia.

What a bastard. If she ever saw his stupid face again, whether it was blue or orange or purple or whatever elf color, Amaya vowed that she would punch it, and punch it hard. If she didn’t kill him first, that is. 

Even so, not informing the king that there was a security risk at large didn’t sit well with her. 

“The King has to know. Surely he’d understand that you were deceived…?”

Sarai shook her head. “If it was only my own life at stake, I’d tell him without hesitation. But it’s not just my life.”

Amaya frowned, puzzled, and gestured for Sarai to continue.

“I…” Sarai paused, searching for the right way to tell her sister the other half of the betrayal. “The reason that I proposed now is…” She pressed a hand to her stomach, a flicker of grief skittering across her expression, before she looked up and met Amaya’s eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Well, THAT was certainly news.

“Dan’s the father?”

Sarai nodded. 

“You’re sure?”

“Amaya, it’s not like I’ve brought anyone else to my chambers.”

“And you’re sure you’re pregnant?”

“I saw the physician this morning. I have a week to decide if I want to take the medicine he offered me, otherwise the baby will be too far along for it to work.”

“Medicine?”

Sarai made a pained expression. “Medicine that will ensure I don’t have a baby I don’t want.”

“Oh.”

The tension of unspoken words cracklesd between them. 

“Do… you want the baby?” ventured Amaya, cautiously. Fifteen minuets ago, she wouldn’t have even needed to ask. Her sister loved children, and had, since they were young girls, spent many nights signing into Amaya’s palm about how many children she wanted to have and what she’d name them. Two boys, then three girls, then another boy, she said, dreamily pining for a future filled with little hands and innocent smiles. 

But that was assuming the father was someone who hadn’t betrayed Sarai’s trust.

That was assuming the father was human.

Sarai stared into the fire, thinking. “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “It’s not because it’d be only half-human,” she followed, quickly. “That isn’t the baby’s fault. And not because its father was a spy. I just worry what kind of life it would have. No one has seen a half-breed in centuries, and I worry that it would be treated like a monster, or killed just for existing. I wonder if it would be more merciful to not let it see how ugly and unkind the world can be to begin with.”

Amaya placed a hand on her sister’s knee, gazing at her with concern. It wasn’t an easy choice.

“I worry, too, what people will say about me, the mother of a-a… a half-elf. Even if the truth is widely known and I’m somehow granted the King’s mercy, that won’t stop the rumors of disloyalty to the human kingdoms, of sympathizing with elves, or worse. A child shouldn’t have to grow up hearing that about their mother.”

“There could be ways to conceal its true nature,” offered Amaya, completely unsure of what those ways were, but aware that there were useful disguises or even magic at hand. 

“And force it to live a life of lies and secrecy, hating itself?” Sarai shook her head. “I almost think that would be worse than the rumors and prejudice. I’d only want that if I could have a guarantee that the child would never know it was anything other than human.”

Amaya sat back and chewed her lower lip, thinking. Then, like a flash of thunder, she got an idea.

“You know that mage that’s always hanging around Prince Harrow?” The prince was a frequent visitor to the Breach, sent by his father at intervals to train with the soldiers and learn the art of war. He tended to bring his retinue, which included his close friend and advisor, a young but skilled mage named… uh, Vivec or Victor or something. He was awkward and kind of a dweeb, and WAY too eager to please, but clearly knowledgeable (even if dark magic made Amaya’s skin crawl). “You could ask him.”

Sarai scowled. “Because Viren is someone I trust with information like that.”

“You trust Harrow.”

“Prince Harrow is honorable and kind. I’m not so sure about Viren.”

“You could probably trust the Prince to keep your secret.”

Sarai frowned, as though to protest, and then considered what her sister had said. She knew Harrow was sweet on her, even if the feelings weren’t mutual. And she knew Harrow was just, and had strong feelings about children not being faulted for their parents’ wrongdoings. Several weeks ago, a man had been tried for stealing from the Fort’s grain stores. The prince had looked past the man, to the gaunt faces of the man’s children standing below the pillory, and opted to sentence the man to a year’s hard labor, rather than execution. He had then offered the children postings as castle servants, so that they might have means to eat. 

It was a choice that was criticized by one of the elder of Harrow’s advisors, but the prince had remained firm. The children of the thief had done nothing but be hungry and in need. Their father’s misdeeds had only been done out of love for his children. It was surprisingly merciful.

Perhaps… 

Sarai shook her head. “I have a week to figure it out. I don’t need to decide anything tonight.”

Amaya nodded. “I’ll let you rest, then, it’s been a long day.” She stood to go, and then paused at the door. “I don’t think less of you, by the way,” she said, turning back to Sarai. “An elf was using magic to deceive you. That’s not your fault.”

Sarai gave a rueful smile. “You know, before my rage caught up to my shock at seeing Dan turn blue and grow horns and wings - do you know what he did?”

Amaya shook her head and raised an eyebrow, indicating that Sarai should continue.

“He said that he loved me. That he couldn’t bear continuing to deceive me, that he wanted me to know the truth, that he’d even renounce his mission if I’d have him.” Sarai threw up her hands in disgust. “How was I supposed to believe a single word of that?”

Amaya frowned, confused. “Wait, he told you? Of his own will?”

Sarai nodded. “I proposed, he took off that earring he always wears, turned into a blue elf with wings and then started going on about honesty and how I deserve the truth, blah blah blah.” She pulled a crumpled up piece of paper out of her pocket. “Even gave me a drawing, a portrait of us with him in his true form, as some kind of bullshit token of goodwill.”

With a derisive snort, Sarai tossed it straight into the fire. 

“What a crock of shit.”

Amaya stormed across the room and grasped her sister in a fierce hug. She pulled away, and put on a brave smile for her bis sis. “Whether you keep the baby or not, I’ll support you. And if you do keep it, whether it’s blue or has four fingers or horns or whatever, I’ll be the best damn aunt in the Pentarchy. And if anyone wants to give your kid shit, they’ll have to deal with me.” She smacked a fist into her palm for emphasis, a promise of the clobbering she’d dole out if anyone wanted to screw with her first nibling. 

Horns or wings or pointy ears might be a lot to deal with, but Sarai was right. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. And Amaya swore that, no matter what, she’d love her sister’s child as fiercely as she would if it were fully human.

\----

_Now, The Storm Spire_

Well, he wasn’t blue, at least. Dan - Zeru - had been a _lot_ bluer than Amaya had expected when she finally saw him after all those years, in her burning cell in Lux Aurea. Callum looked more or less the same. The horns and pointed ears were new, and his cheeks bore fading white paint that was likely used to aid in his stealthy travels across Xadia, but it was still him. 

As he spelled out the name of the elf girl, Amaya noted that he still had his fifth finger. 

“Oh, I see you have an elf friend, too,” Callum said, peering around her at Janai, who bristled at the comment.

“She’s not my _friend_ ,” insisted Janai. “She is my prisoner.”

Amaya gave Callum a knowing look. “ _She hasn’t admitted she thinks I’m cute yet_ ,” she signed, getting a small chuckle out of Callum. Amaya pressed her luck. “How about you? Told your elf friend you think she’s cute yet?”

Callum turned crimson and the laugh died in his throat. “Wha-? Heh- hahh, ahahaha, good one, Aunt Amaya,” he stammered, before furiously signing a reply.

_“How did you know!?”_

Amaya rolled her eyes. “ _You sure have gotten friendly with her since saying she was going to drink your blood at the Banther Lodge. Plus, you keep sneaking glances back at her when you think she isn’t looking.”_

Without meaning to, Callum’s gaze had already drifted to Rayla, who was giving Janai the details of their quest and introducing the Sunfire elf to Zym. 

A heavy arm clapped itself around Callum’s back. “So what’s this about thinking the elf girl’s cute?” said Soren, _sotto-voce_ , near Callum’s ear. Callum whipped around and out of Soren’s grasp. 

“How do YOU know about that?” hissed Callum in a whisper.

“Dude, relax, learning KSL is part of basic training. The General having an interpreter is useful, especially in diplomatic situations or whatever, but we have to be able to understand orders if Gren’s ever incapacitated or separated from her,” explained Soren. “I’m not great at it but I got about 80% of that conversation.” He waved at Amaya, and signed “ _hi, General_.”

“ _Hello, yourself.”_

Soren nodded in acknowledgement, then turned back to Callum. “So, anyway, the elf girl. Need a wingman? Or--” he brightened, with a sudden realization. “You’re kind of your own wingman, huh? Ooh! Or you can be my wingman, some time, because you actually have wings!”

Callum only glared at Soren. 

“What? Oh right, right, you’re still kinda sensitive about the whole half-elf thing. The blue guy who rescued me is your dad, isn’t he?”

“ _So how does your foot taste, Soren?”_ asked Amaya, with a dry smrik.

“Uh, that’s a weird question. Salty, maybe? It’s been a few days since I changed socks, so probably pretty gross.”

Callum’s face met his hand with a light slap. “Are you out here for a reason, Soren?”

“Oh! Right, I was going to talk to the sun lady about how big the human armies are, positions, strategies, that kind of stuff. Y’know, the boring military tactics stuff you always zone out on.” Soren turned to go over to where Janai and Zeru were discussing something with Rayla. “But seriously, if you ever want some bro advice…” And with some parting finger guns, Soren left their company.

Amaya looked around. “ _No Ezran_?”

Callum shook his head. “He went with a sky mage named Ibis to seek out reinforcements earlier today. He should be back by sunrise.” He paused, scrutinizing her like he was searching for something. “Um…”

She raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You haven’t said anything about--” Callum gestured at his face and head. “-- about this.”

Amaya crossed her arms and leaned back with a soft smile playing across her lips. “ _I’ve known about--”_ and here she waved a hand in the same manner that Callum had, gesturing at his horns and ears _, “--THAT since the day your mother told me she was pregnant with you. I told myself then that no matter what you looked like, you were still my nephew and still precious to me.”_ Playfully, she tugged on his horn. “ _Might take some getting used to, but you’re still Callum, right?”_

“Uh… yeah. Yeah.”

“ _Then that’s what matters.”_ Amaya grinned. “ _Now come on, lets go talk about boring strategy shit.”_

“Do I have to?”

“ _Going to have to learn tactics one day, what with you being the King’s brother. Why not start with a historic battle?”_

Grumbling, Callum followed her to where the others had gathered, and the lot of them headed inside to draw up plans for the coming battle.


End file.
